GIFT  OF 

X— / 


1 


(  0 


MRS.     BALFAME 


BY  MRS.  ATHERTON 

HISTORICAL 
THE  CONQUEROR 
CALIFORNIA:    An    Intimate    History 
FICTION 
CALIFORNIA 
BEFORE    THE    GRINGO    CAME,     Containing    "  Rez&nov" 

(1806)    and   "The   Doomswoman"    (1840) 
THE  SPLENDID  IDLE  FORTIES  (1800-46) 
A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  VINE   (The  Sixties) 
AMERICAN  WIVES  AND  ENGLISH  HUSBANDS   (The 

Eighties) 

THE  CALIFORNIANS  (The  Eighties) 
A   WHIRL  ASUNDER   (The  Nineties) 
ANCESTORS   (Present) 
THE    VALIANT  RUNAWAYS:    A   Book  for   Boys    (1840) 

IN    OTHER    PARTS   OF    THE    WORLD 

PERCH    OF    THE   DEVIL    (Montana) 

TOWER  OF  IVORY   (Munich) 

JULIA  FRANCE  AND  HER  TIMES  (B.  W.  I.  and  Eng 
land) 

RULERS  OF  KINGS  (Austria,  Hungary  and  the  Adiron- 
dacks) 

THE   TRAVELLING   THIRDS    (Spain) 

THE  GORGEOUS  ISLE   (Nevis,  B.   W.  I.) 

SENATOR   NORTH   (Washington) 

PATIENCE  SPARHAWK  AND  HER  TIMES  (Monterey, 
California,  and  New  York) 

THE  ARISTOCRATS   (The  Adirondacks) 

THE  BELL  IN  THE  FOG:  Short  Stories  of  Various 
Climes  and  Phases 


MRS.  BALFAME 

A  Novel 


BY 

GERTRUDE  ATHERTON 


NEW  YORK 

FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1916,  by 
GERTRUDE  ATHERTON 


All  rights  reserved,  including  that  of  translation  into 
foreign  languages 


FOURTH   PRINTING 


5 


And  woman,  yea,  woman,  shall  be  terrible  in  story; 

The  tales  too,  meseemeth,  shall  be  other  than  of  yore. 
For  a  fear  there  is  that  cometh  out  of  woman  and  a  glory, 
And  the  hard  hating  voices  shall  encompass  her  no 
more. 

—  The  Medea. 


345104 


MRS.     BALFAME 


MRS.   BALFAME 


CHAPTER  I 

MRS.  BALFAME  had  made  up  her  mind  to  com 
mit  murder. 

As  she  stared  down  at  the  rapt  faces  of  the  fifty- 
odd  members  of  the  Friday  Club,  upturned  to  the  dis 
tinguished  speaker  from  New  York,  whom  she,  as 
President,  had  introduced  in  those  few  words  she  so 
well  knew  how  to  choose,  it  occurred  to  her  with  a 
faint  shock  that  this  momentous  resolution  had  been 
growing  in  her  essentially  refined  and  amiable  mind  for 
months,  possibly  for  years;  for  she  was  not  an  im 
petuous  woman. 

While  smiling  and  applauding,  patting  her  large 
strong  hands,  freshly  gloved  in  virgin  white,  at  pre 
cisely  the  right  moment,  as  the  sound  and  escharotic 
speaker  laid  down  the  Woman's  Law,  she  permitted 
herself  to  wonder  if  the  idea  had  not  burrowed  in  her 
subconscious  mind  —  that  mental  antiquity  shop  of 
which  she  had  lately  read  so  much,  that  she  might  ex 
pound  it  to  the  progressive  ladies  of  the  Friday  Club  — 
for  at  least  half  the  twenty-two  years  of  her  married 
life. 

It  was  only  last  night  that  awakening  suddenly  she 
had  realised  with  no  further  skirmishes  and  retreats  of 


2.    ;  MRS.    BALFAME 

conscience  or  principle  how  she  hated  the  heavy  mass  of 
flesh  sleeping  heavily  beside  her. 

For  at  least  eight  years,  ever  since  their  fortunes  had 
improved  and  she  had  found  leisure  for  the  novels  and 
plays  of  authors  well-read  in  life,  she  had  longed  for  a 
room,  a  separate  personal  existence,  of  her  own.  She 
was  no  dreamer,  but  this  exclusive  and  ladylike  apart 
ment  often  had  floated  before  her  mental  vision, 
chastely  papered  and  furnished  in  a  cold  pale  blue  (she 
had  an  uneasy  instinct  that  pink  and  lavender  were  im 
moral)  ;  and  by  day  it  should  look  like  a  boudoir.  She 
was  too  wise  to  make  a  verbal  assault  upon  this  or  any 
foreign  word,  for  she  found  the  stage,  her  only  guide, 
strangely  casual  or  contradictory  in  these  minor  details ; 
but  although  her  little  world  found  no  trouble  in  dis 
covering  what  Mrs.  Balfame  increasingly  knew,  what 
she  did  not  know  they  suspected  so  little  that  they  never 
even  discussed  her  limitations.  Handicapped  by  cir 
cumstances  early  and  late  she  might  be,  but  she  had 
managed  to  insinuate  the  belief  that  she  was  the  supe 
rior  in  all  things  of  the  women  around  her,  their  born 
and  natural  leader. 

Mrs.  Balfame  had  never  given  expression  to  this  de 
sire  for  a  delitescent  bedroom,  being  a  woman  who 
thought  silently,  spoke  guardedly,  and,  both  patient 
and  philosophical,  rarely  permitted  what  she  called  her 
imagination  to  wander,  or  bitterness  to  enter  her  soul. 

The  Bal  fames  were  by  no  means  well  enough  off, 
even  now,  to  refurnish  the  old  bedrooms  long  since  de 
nuded  by  a  too  economical  parent  after  his  children  had 
married  and  moved  away,  but  a  few  mornings  since  she 
had  remarked  casually  that  as  the  springs  of  the  con 
jugal  bed  were  sagging  she  thought  she  should  send  it 


MRS.     BALFAME  3 

to  the  auction  room  and  buy  two  single  beds.  Last 
night,  lying  there  in  the  dark,  she  had  clenched  her 
hands  and  held  her  breath  as  she  recalled  David  Bal- 
fame's  purple  flush,  the  deliberate  manner  in  which  he 
had  set  down  his  thick  coffee  cup  and  scrubbed  his 
bristling  moustache,  then  rolled  up  the  stained  napkin 
and  pushed  it  into  the  ring  before  replying. 

His  first  vocative  expressed  all,  but  he  was  a  poli 
tician  and  used  to  elaborating  his  mental  processes  for 
the  benefit  of  befuddled  intellects.  "  You'll  have 
them  springs  mended,"  he  informed  his  wife,  who  was 
smiling  brilliantly  and  sweetly  across  the  debris  of 
ham  and  eggs,  salt  mackerel,  coffee  and  hot  breads — 
"  that  is,  if  they  need  it,  which  I  haven't  noticed,  and 
I'm  some  heavier  than  you.  But  you'll  introduce  no 
more  of  your  damned  new-fangled  notions  into  this 
house.  It  was  good  enough  for  my  parents,  and  it's 
good  enough  for  us.  We  lived  for  fifteen  years  with 
out  art  lampshades  that  hurt  my  eyes,  and  rugs  that 
trip  me  up;  and  these  last  eight  or  nine  years,  since 
you've  been  runnin'  a  club  when  you  ain't  runnin'  to 
New  York,  I've  had  too  many  cold  suppers  to  suit 
me ;  I've  paid  bills  for  '  teas  '  to  that  Club  and  I've  put 
out  money  for  fine  clothes  for  you  that  I  could  spend 
a  long  sight  better  at  election  time.  But  I've  stood 
all  that,  for  I  guess  I'm  as  good  a  husband  as  any  in 
God's  own  country;  I  like  to  see  you  well  dressed,  for 
you're  still  a  looker — and  it's  good  business,  anyhow; 
and  I've  never  grudged  you  a  hired  girl.  But  there's 
a  limit  to  every  man's  patience.  I  draw  the  line  at 
two  beds.  That's  all  there  is  to  it." 

He  had  made  a  part  of  his  speech  standing,  that 
being  his  accustomed  position  when  laying  down  the 


4  MRS.     BALFAME 

law,  and  he  now  left  the  room  with  the  heavy  country 
slouch  his  wife  had  never  been  able  to  reform.  He 
had  no  authority  in  walk  or  bearing,  being  a  man  more 
obstinate  than  strong,  more  cunning  than  firm. 

She  was  thankful  that  he  did  not  bestow  upon  her 
the  usual  marital  kiss ;  the  smell  of  coffee  on  his  mous 
tache  had  sickened  her  faintly  ever  since  she  had 
ceased  to  love  him. 

Or  begun  to  hate  him?  She  had  wondered,  as  she 
lay  there  inhaling  deeply  to  draw  the  blood  from  her 
head,  if  she  ever  had  loved  him.  When  a  man  and  a 
maid  are  young !  He  had  been  a  tall  slim  youth,  with 
red  cheeks  and  bright  eyes,  the  "  catch  "  of  the  village; 
his  habits  were  commendable  and  he  would  inherit  his 
father's  store,  his  only  brother  having  died  a  year 
earlier  and  his  sisters  married  and  moved  West.  She 
was  pretty,  empty-headed,  as  ill-educated  as  all  girls 
of  her  class,  but  she  kept  her  father's  house  neatly, 
she  was  noted  even  at  sixteen  for  her  pies,  and 
at  twenty  for  the  dexterity  and  taste  with  which 
she  made  her  own  clothes  out  of  practically  noth 
ing.  She  was  by  no  means  the  ordinary  fool  of 
her  age  class  and  nation.  But  although  she  was  in 
capable  of  passion,  she  had  a  thin  sentimental  streak, 
a  youthful  desire  for  a  romance,  and  a  cold  dislike  for 
an  impending  stepmother. 

David  Balfame  wooed  her  over  the  front  gate  and 
won  her  in  the  orchard ;  and  the  year  was  in  its  spring 
time.  It  was  all  as  natural  and  inevitable  as  the 
measles  and  whooping-cough  through  which  she  nursed 
him  during  the  first  year  of  their  marriage. 

She  had  been  happy  with  the  happiness  of  youth 
ignorance  and  busy  hands ;  although  there  had  been  the 


MRS.     BALFAME  5 

common  trials  and  quarrels,  they  had  been  quickly  for 
gotten,  for  she  was  a  woman  of  a  serene  and  philo 
sophical  temperament;  moreover,  no  children  came, 
for  which  she  felt  a  sort  of  cold  negative  gratitude. 
She  liked  children,  and  even  attracted  them,  but  she 
preferred  that  other  women  should  bear  and  rear  them. 

But  all  that  comparative  happiness  was  before  the 
dawning  of  ambition  and  the  heavier  trials  that  pre 
ceded  it. 

A  railroad  expanded  the  sleepy  village  into  a  lively 
town  of  some  three  thousand  inhabitants,  and  although 
that  meant  wider  interests  for  Mrs.  Balfame,  and  an 
occasional  trip  to  New  York,  the  more  intimate  con 
nection  with  a  great  city  nearly  wrecked  her  husband's 
business.  His  father  was  dead  and  he  had  inherited 
the  store  which  had  supplied  the  village  with  general 
merchandise  for  a  generation.  But  by  the  time  the 
railroad  came  he  had  grown  lazy  and  liked  to  sit  on  the 
sidewalk  on  fine  days,  or  before  the  stove  in  winter, 
his  chair  tilted  back,  talking  politics  with  other  gentle 
men  of  comparative  leisure.  He  was  popular,  for  he 
had  a  bluff  and  hospitable  manner ;  he  was  an  author 
ity  on  politics,  and  possessed  an  eloquent  if  ungram- 
matical  tongue.  For  a  time,  as  his  business  dwindled, 
he  merely  blasphemed,  but  just  as  he  was  beginning 
to  feel  really  uneasy,  a  brother-in-law  who  had  been 
the  chum  of  his  youth  arrived  from  Montana  and 
saved  him  from  extinction  and  "  the  old  Balfame 
place  "  from  mortgage. 

Mr.  Cummack,  the  brother-in-law,  turned  out  the 
loafers,  put  Dave  into  politics,  and  himself  called  per 
sonally  upon  every  housewife  in  the  community,  agree 
ing  to  keep  the  best  of  all  she  needed,  but  none  of  those 


6  MRS.     BALFAME 

articles  which  served  as  an  excuse  for  a  visit  to  New 
York  or  tempted  her  to  delightful  hours  with  the  mail 
order  catalogue. 

Mrs.  Balfame  detested  this  bustling  common  effi 
cient  brother-in-law,  although  at  the  end  of  two  years, 
the  twelfth  of  her  married  life,  she  was  keeping  a 
maid-of-all-work  and  manicuring  her  nails.  She 
treated  him  with  an  unswerving  sweetness,  a  natural 
quality  which  later  developed  into  the  full  flower  of 
graciousness,  and  even  gave  him  a  temperate  measure 
of  gratitude.  She  was  a  just  woman;  and  it  was  not 
long  after  his  advent  that  she  began  to  realise  the  am 
bition  latent  in  her  strong  character  and  to  enter  upon 
a  well  defined  plan  for  social  leadership. 

She  found  it  all  astonishingly  easy.  Of  course  she 
never  had  met,  probably  never  would  meet,  the  really 
wealthy  families  that  owned  large  estates  in  the  county 
and  haughtily  entertained  one  another  when  not  en 
tertaining  equally  exclusive  New  Yorkers.  But  Mrs. 
Balfame  did  not  waste  time  in  envy  of  these  people; 
there  were  old  families  in  her  own  and  neighbouring 
villages,  proud  of  their  three  or  four  generations  on 
the  same  farm,  well-to-do  but  easy-going,  democratic 
and,  when  not  so  old  as  to  be  "  moss-backs,"  hospitable 
to  new  notions.  Many,  indeed,  had  built  new  homes 
in  the  expanding  village,  which  bade  fair  to  embrace 
choice  bits  of  the  farms. 

Mrs.  Balfame  always  had  dominated  these  life-long 
neighbours  and  associates,  and  the  gradual  newcomers 
were  quick  to  recognise  her  power  and  her  superior 
mind;  to  realise  that  not  to  know  Mrs.  Balfame  was 
to  be  a  commuter  and  no  more.  Everything  helped 
her.  Even  the  substantial  house,  inherited  from  her 


MRS.     BALFAME  7 

father-in-law,  and  still  surrounded  by  four  acres  of 
land,  stood  at  the  head  of  the  original  street  of  the  vil 
lage,  a  long  wide  street  so  thickly  planted  with  maples 
as  old  as  the  farms  that  from  spring  until  Christmas 
the  soft  leafy  boughs  interlaced  overhead.  She  had  a 
subtle  but  iron  will,  and  a  quite  commonplace  person 
ality  disguised  by  the  cold,  sweet,  stately  and  gracious 
manner  so  much  admired  by  women;  and  she  was 
quite  unhampered  by  the  least  of  that  originality  or 
waywardness  which  antagonises  the  orthodox.  More 
over,  she  dressed  her  tall  slender  figure  with  unerring 
taste.  Of  course  she  was  obliged  to  wear  her  smart 
tailored  suits  for  two  years,  but  they  always  looked 
new  and  were  worn  with  an  air  that  quite  doubled  their 
not  insignificant  price.  By  women  she  was  thought 
very  beautiful,  but  men,  for  the  most  part,  passed 
her  by. 

For  eight  years  now,  Mrs.  Balfame  had  been  the 
acknowledged  leader  of  Elsinore.  It  was  she  who  had 
founded  the  Friday  Club,  at  first  for  general  cultiva 
tion  of  mind,  of  late  to  study  the  obsessing  subject  of 
Woman.  She  cared  not  a  straw  for  the  privilege  of 
voting;  in  fact,  she  thought  it  would  be  an  extremely 
unladylike  thing  to  do ;  but  a  leader  must  always  be  at 
the  head  of  the  procession,  while  discriminating  be 
twixt  fad  and  fashion. 

It  was  she  who  had  established  a  connection  with  a 
respectable  club  in  New  York;  it  was  she  who  had 
inveigled  the  substantial  well-dressed  and  radical  per 
sonage  on  the  rostrum  beside  her  to  come  over  and 
homilise  upon  the  subject  of  "  The  European  War  vs. 
Woman." 

The  visitor  had  proved  to  her  own  satisfaction  and 


8  MRS.     B-iLFAME 

that  of  the  major  part  of  her  audience  that  the  bomb 
which  had  precipitated  the  war  had  been  made  in  Ger 
many.  She  was  proceeding  complacently,  despite  the 
hisses  of  several  members  with  German  forbears,  and 
the  President  had  just  exchanged  a  glance  of  amuse 
ment  with  a  moderate  neutral,  who  believed  that 
Russia's  desire  to  thaw  out  her  icy  feet  in  warm  water 
was  at  the  bottom  of  the  mischief,  when  —  spurred 
perhaps  by  a  biting  allusion  to  the  atrocities  engaging 
the  press  at  the  moment  —  the  idea  of  murder  took 
definite  form  in  that  clear  unvisionary  brain  so  justly 
admired  by  the  ladies  of  Elsinore. 

Mrs.  Bal fame's  pure  profile,  the  purer  for  the  still 
smooth  contours  and  white  skin  of  the  face  itself,  the 
stately  setting  of  the  head,  was  turned  toward  the  au 
dience  below  the  platform,  and  one  admiring  young 
member,  who  attended  an  art  class  in  New  York,  was 
sketching  it  as  a  study  in  St.  Cecelias,  when  those  six 
letters  of  fire  rose  smoking  from  the  battle  fields  of 
Europe  and  took  Mrs.  Balfame's  consciousness  by  as 
sault  :  six  dark  and  murky  letters,  but  with  no  vague 
ness  of  outline. 

The  first  faint  shock  of  surprise  over,  as  well  as  the 
few  moments  of  retrospect,  she  asked  herself  calmly : 
"Why  not?"  Over  there  men  were  being  torn  and 
shot  to  pieces  by  wholesale,  joking  across  the  trenches 
in  their  intervals  of  rest,  to  kill  again  when  the  signal 
was  given  with  as  little  compunction  as  she  herself  had 
often  aimed  at  a  target,  or  wrung  the  neck  of  a  chicken 
that  had  fed  from  her  hand.  And  these  were  men,  the 
makers  of  law,  the  self -elected  rulers  of  the  world. 

Mrs.  Balfame  had  respected  men  mightily  in  her 
youth.  Even  now,  although  she  both  despised  and 


MRS.     BALFAME  9 

hated  her  husband,  she  responded  femininely  to  a  fine 
specimen  of  manhood  with  good  manners  and  some 
thing  to  talk  about  save  politics  and  business.  But 
these  were  few  and  infrequent  in  Brabant  County, 
The  only  man  she  had  met  for  years  who  interested 
her  in  the  least  was  D wight  Rush,  also  a  scion  of  one 
of  the  old  farm  families. 

Rush  had  been  educated  in  the  law  at  a  northwest 
ern  university,  but  after  a  few  years  of  practice  in 
Wisconsin  had  accepted  an  offer  to  enter  the  most  re 
spectable  law  firm  in  his  native  township.  He  had 
been  employed  several  times  by  David  Balfame,  who 
had  brought  him  home  informally  to  supper  perhaps 
once  a  fortnight  during  the  last  six  months.  But,  al 
though  Mrs.  Balfame  frankly  enjoyed  his  society  and 
his  evident  admiration  for  a  beauty  she  knew  had  little 
attraction  for  his  sex,  she  had  all  a  conventional  wom 
an's  dislike  for  irregularities,  however  innocent;  and 
she  had  snubbed  Mr.  Rush's  desire  to  "  drop  in  of  an 
afternoon." 

He  barely  flitted  through  her  mind  when  she  asked 
herself  what  did  man's  civilisation  amount  to,  anyway, 
and  why  should  women  respect  it?  And,  compared 
with  the  stupendous  slaughter  in  Europe,  a  slaughter 
that  would  seem  to  be  one  of  the  periodicities  of  the 
world,  since  it  is  the  composite  expression  of  the  in 
dividual  male's  desire  to  fight  somebody  just  so  often 
—  what,  in  comparison  with  such  a  monstrous  crime, 
would  be  the  offence  of  making  way  with  one  ob 
noxious  husband? 

Something  over  two  years  ago  —  when  liquor  began 
to  put  a  fiery  edge  upon  Mr.  Bal fame's  temper  —  Mrs. 
Balfame  had  considered  the  question  of  divorce;  but 


10  MRS.     BALFAME 

after  several  weeks  of  cool  calculation  and  the  exer 
cise  of  her  foresight  upon  the  inevitable  social  conse 
quences,  she  had  put  the  idea  definitely  aside.  It  was 
incompatible  with  her  plan  of  life.  Only  rich  women, 
or  women  that  were  insignificant  in  great  cities,  or  who 
possessed  conquering  gifts,  or  who  were  so  advanced 
as  to  be  indifferent,  could  afford  the  luxury  of  divorce. 
Her  world  was  the  eastern  division  of  Brabant 
County,  and  while  it  prided  itself  upon  its  progressive- 
ness,  and  even  —  among  the  younger  women  —  had  a 
gay  set,  and  although  suppressed  scandals  slid  about  like 
slimy  monsters  in  a  marsh,  its  foundations  were  in 
herited  from  the  old  Puritan  stock,  and  it  fairly  reeked 
with  ancient  prejudices. 

It  was  a  typical  middle-class  community  with  tradi 
tions,  some  of  its  blood  too  old,  and  made  up  of  com 
mon  human  ingredients  in  varying  proportions.  Mrs. 
Balfame,  enlightened  by  much  reading  and  many 
matinees,  applied  the  word  bourgeois  to  Elsinore  with 
secret  scorn,  but  with  a  sigh:  conscious  that  all  its 
prejudices  were  hers  and  that  not  for  an  instant  could 
she  continue  to  be  its  leader  were  she  a  divorced 
woman. 

Mrs.  Balfame  indulged  in  no  dreams  of  sudden 
wealth.  Elsinore  was  her  world,  and  on  the  whole 
she  was  content,  realising  that  life  had  not  equipped 
her  to  lead  the  society  of  New  York  City.  She  liked 
to  shop  in  Fifth  Avenue  —  long  since  had  she  politely 
forgotten  the  mobs  of  Sixth, —  to  occupy  an  orchestra 
chair  with  a  friend  at  a  matinee,  and  take  tea  or  choco 
late  at  the  fashionable  retreats  for  such  dissipations 
before  returning  to  provincial  Elsinore.  There  was  a 
tacit  agreement  between  herself  and  her  husband  that 


MRS.     BALFAME  11 

he  should  dine  with  his  political  friends  in  a  certain 
restaurant  behind  a  bar  in  Dobton,  the  county  seat,  on 
the  Wednesday  or  Thursday  evenings  when  she  found 
it  impossible  to  return  to  Elsinore  before  seven 
o'clock;  an  arrangement  which  he  secretly  approved  of 
but  invariably  entered  a  protest  against  by  coming 
home  at  two  in  the  morning  extremely  drunk. 

He  never  attended  the  theatre  with  her,  his  prefer 
ence  being  for  vaudeville  or  a  screaming  musical  com 
edy,  for  both  of  which  abnormalities  she  had  a  pro 
found  contempt.  She  saw  only  the  "  best  plays  "  her 
self,  her  choice  being  guided  not  so  much  by  newspaper 
approval  as  by  length  of  run.  It  must  be  confessed  that 
in  the  eight  or  nine  years  of  her  comparative  emancipa 
tion  from  the  grinding  duties  of  the  home  she  had 
learned  a  good  deal  of  life  from  the  plays  she  saw. 
On  the  whole,  however,  she  preferred  sound  American 
drama,  particularly  when  it  dealt  with  Society;  for  the 
advanced  (or  decadent?)  pictures  of  life  as  presented 
in  the  imported  drama,  she  had  only  a  mild  contempt ; 
her  first  curiosity  satisfied,  she  thanked  God  that  she 
was  a  plain  American. 

Such  was  Mrs.  Balfame  when  she  made  up  her  mind 
to  remove  David  Balfame,  superfluous  husband.  She 
was  quite  content  to  reign  in  Elsinore,  to  live  out  her 
life  there,  but  as  a  dignified  and  irreproachable  and 
well-to-do  widow.  Divorce  being  out  of  the  question, 
there  was  but  one  way  to  get  rid  of  him :  his  years  were 
but  forty- four,  and  although  he  "  blew  up  "  with  in 
creasing  frequency,  to  use  his  own  choice  vernacular, 
he  was  as  healthy  as  an  ox,  and  the  town  drunkard  was 
rising  eighty. 

Mrs.  Bal fame's  friend,  Dr.  Anna  Steuer,  was  now 


12  MRS.     BALFAME 

replying  to  the  lady  from  New  York.  After  remind 
ing  the  Club  that  the  President  of  the  United  States 
had  requested  his  docile  subjects  to  curb  their  passions 
and  flaunt  their  neutrality,  Dr.  Steuer  proceeded  to 
demolish  the  anti-German  attitude  of  the  guests  by 
reciting  the  long  list  of  industrial,  economic  and  scien 
tific  contributions  to  civilisation  which  had  distin 
guished  the  German  Empire  since  the  federation  of  its 
states. 

Dr.  Steuer  was  of  Dutch  descent,  and  her  gifts  were 
not  forensic,  but  the  key-note  of  her  character  was 
an  intense  and  passionate  loyalty.  She  had  spent  some 
of  the  most  impressionable  years  of  her  life  in  the 
German  clinics,  and  she  cherished  a  romantic  affection 
for  a  country  whose  natural  and  historic  beauties  no 
man  will  deny.  She  had  steadfastly  refused  to  read 
the  "  other  side,"  pinning  her  faith  to  all  that  was  best 
in  the  country  of  her  youthful  dreams.  In  conse 
quence,  her  discourse,  while  informing,  was  somewhat 
beside  the  point ;  and  had  it  not  been  for  the  deep  love 
borne  her  by  almost  every  one  present,  there  would 
have  been  a  polite  but  firm  demand  to  give  place. 

Mrs.  Balfame  was  smiling  encouragement  when  her 
musings  took  a  sudden  and  arbitrary  twist.  Being  a 
person  who  never  acted  on  impulse,  her  decisions,  after 
due  processes  of  thought,  were  commonly  irrevocable. 
The  moment  she  had  made  up  her  mind  to  pass  her 
husband  on,  she  had  committed  herself  to  the  act;  and, 
even  before  Dr.  Anna  Steuer  had  claimed  her  super 
ficial  attention,  had  already  erected  the  question, 
How? 

Mrs.  Balfame  was  a  woman  who  rarely  bungled  any 
thing,  and  murder,  she  well  knew,  was  the  last  of  all 


MRS.     BALFAME  13 

acts  to  bungle,  did  the  perpetrator  desire  to  enjoy  the 
freedom  of  his  act.  Being  refined  to  her  marrow,  she 
shrank  from  all  forms  of  brutality,  and  rarely,  if  ever, 
read  the  details  of  crime  in  the  newspapers.  The  sight 
of  blood  disgusted  her,  although  it  did  not  turn  her 
faint.  She  kept  a  pistol  in  her  bedroom;  burglars, 
particularly  of  late,  had  entered  a  large  number  of 
houses  in  Brabant  County;  but  nothing  would  have 
horrified  her  more  than  to  empty  its  contents  into  the 
worst  of  criminals. 

Mechanically  she  had  run  through  the  list  of  all  the 
accepted  forms  of  removing  human  impedimenta  and 
rejected  them,  when  Dr.  Anna's  scientific  mind,  play 
ing  along  the  surface  of  hers,  shot  in  the  arrow  of  sug 
gestion  that  she  belonged  naturally  to  the  type  of 
woman  that  poisoned  if  forced  to  commit  murder.  It 
was  bloodless,  decent,  and  required  no  vulgar  expendi 
ture  of  energy. 

But  healthy  people,  suddenly  dead,  were  excavated 
and  the  quarry  submitted  to  chemical  tests ;  it  was  then 
— smiling  brilliantly  at  her  ardent  pro-German  friend 
—  that  Mrs.  Balfame  recalled  a  rainy  evening  some 
two  years  since.  She  and  Dr.  Anna  had  sat  over  the 
fire  in  the  old  Steuer  cottage,  and  the  doctor,  who  be 
fore  the  war  never  had  been  interested  in  anything 
but  her  friends,  her  science,  and  suffrage,  had  dis 
coursed  upon  certain  untraceable  poisons,  had  even 
risen  and  taken  down  a  vial  from  a  secret  cupboard 
above  the  mantel.  During  the  same  conversation, 
which  naturally  drifted  to  crime,  Dr.  Anna  had  dis 
coursed  upon  the  idiocy  of  doctors  who  poisoned  with 
morphia,  strychnine,  or  prussic  acid,  when  not  only 
were  these  organic  poisons  known  to  all  scientific  mem- 


14  MRS.     BALFAME 

bers  of  the  profession,  but  they  could  easily  remove  the 
barrier  to  their  complete  happiness  with  cholera,  small 
pox,  or  typhus  germs,  sealed  within  the  noncommittal 
capsule. 

Mrs.  Balfame  shuddered  at  the  mere  thought  of  any 
of  these  dreadful  diseases,  having  no  desire  to  witness 
human  sufferings,  or  to  run  the  risk  of  infection,  but 
as  she  stared  at  Dr.  Anna  to-day,  she  made  up  her 
mind  to  procure  that  vial  of  furtive  poison. 

So  sudden  was  this  resolution  and  so  grim  its 
portent  that  it  was  accompanied  by  unusual  physical 
phenomena:  she  brought  her  sound  white  teeth  to 
gether  and  thrust  out  her  strong  chin ;  her  eyes  became 
fixed  in  a  hard  stare  and  the  muscles  of  her  face  seemed 
to  menace  her  soft  white  skin. 

Alys  Crumley,  the  young  woman  who  had  been 
sketching  Mrs.  Balfame  instead  of  listening  to  the  dis 
cussion,  caught  her  breath  and  dropped  her  pencil. 
For  the  moment  the  pretty,  ultra-refined,  elegant  leader 
of  Elsinore  society  looked  not  like  St.  Cecelia  but  like 
Medea.  Always  determined,  resolute,  smilingly  dom 
inant,  never  before  had  she  betrayed  the  secret  pos 
sibilities  of  her  nature. 

Miss  Crumley  cast  a  glance  of  startled  apprehension 
about  her,  but  the  debate  was  just  finished,  every  one 
was  commenting  upon  the  splendid  self-control  of  the 
high  participants,  and  repeating  the  New  Yorker's  last 
phrase :  that  not  civilisation  but  man  was  a  failure.  A 
moment  later  Mrs.  Balfame  advanced  to  the  edge  of 
the  platform,  and,  with  her  inimitable  graciousness,  in 
vited  the  members  of  the  Club  to  come  forward  and 
meet  the  distinguished  guest.  Little  Miss  Alys  Crum- 


MRS.     BALFAME  15 

ley,  watching  her,  listening  to  her  pleasant  shallow 
voice,  her  amused  quiet  laugh,  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  fearsome  expression  she  had  seen  on  her 
model's  face  had  been  a  mere  effect  of  light. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  meeting  of  the  Friday  Club  had  been  held  in 
the  Auditorium,  a  hall  which  accommodated 
moving  pictures,  an  occasional  vaudeville  performance, 
political  orators,  and  subscription  balls  of  more  than 
one  social  stratum.  It  was  particularly  adapted  to  the 
growing  needs  of  the  Friday  Club,  as  it  impressed  vis 
itors  favorably,  and  there  was  a  small  room  in  the  rear 
where  tea  could  be  served. 

It  was  a  crisp  autumn  evening  when  the  President 
and  her  committee  sped  the  parting  guest  of  this  fate 
ful  day  and  walked  briskly  homeward,  either  to  cook 
supper  themselves  or  to  prod  the  languid  "  hired  girl." 
Starting  in  groups,  they  parted  at  successive  corners, 
and  finally  Mrs.  Balfame  and  Dr.  Anna  were  alone  in 
the  old  street.  The  doctor's  offices  were  in  Main  Street 
under  the  Auditorium,  between  the  Elsinore  Bank  and 
the  Emporium  drug  store,  but  she  too  had  inherited  a 
cottage  in  what  was  now  known  as  Elsinore  Avenue, 
and  almost  at  the  opposite  end  from  the  "  Old  Bal 
fame  Place." 

"  Come  in,"  she  said  hospitably,  as  she  opened  a  gate 
set  superfluously  into  the  low  boxwood  hedge.  "  You 
can  'phone  to  the  Elks'  and  tell  Dave  to  try  the  new 
hotel.  It's  ages  since  I've  seen  you." 

"  I  will !  "  Mrs.  Balf ame's  prompt  reply  was  ac 
companied  by  what  was  known  in  Elsinore  as  her  in 
scrutable  smile.  "  It  is  kind  of  you,"  she  added 

16 


s 
t 


MRS.     BALFAME  17 

politely,  for  even  with  old  friends  she  never  forgot 
her  manners.  "  I  long  for  a  cup  of  your  tea  —  if  you 
will  make  it  yourself.  I  really  could  eat  nothing  after 
those  sandwiches." 

"  I'll  make  it  myself,  all  right.  First  because  it 
wouldn't  be  fit  to  drink  if  I  didn't,  and  second  because 
it's  Cassie's  night  out." 

She  took  the  key  from  beneath  the  door-mat,  and 
pressed  an  electric  button  in  the  hall  and  another  in  a 
comfortable  untidy  sitting-room.  In  her  parents'  day 
the  sitting-room  had  been  the  front  parlour,  with  an  at 
mosphere  as  rigid  as  the  horsehair  furniture,  but  in 
this  era  of  more  elastic  morals  it  was  full  of  shabby 
comf.ortable  furniture,  a  davenport  was  close  to  the 
radiator,  the  desk  and  tables  were  littered  with  maga 
zines,  medical  reviews,  and  text  books. 

"  How  warm  and  delicious,"  said  Mrs.  Balfame 
brightly,  removing  her  hat  and  wraps  and  laying  them 
smoothly  on  a  chair.  "  I'll  telephone  and  then  close 
my  eyes  and  think  of  nothing  until  tea  is  ready  —  I 
know  you  won't  have  me  in  the  kitchen.  What  a 
blessed  relief  it  will  be  to  hear  you  sing  in  your  funny 
old  voice  after  that  woman's  strident  tones." 

She  made  short  work  of  telephoning.  Mr.  Balfame, 
having  "  just  stepped  across  the  street,"  she  merely 
left  a  message  for  him.  Dr.  Anna,  out  in  the  kitchen, 
lighted  the  gas  stove,  rattled  the  aluminum  ware,  and 
sang  in  a  booming  contralto. 

Mrs.  Balfame  went  through  no  stage  formalities; 
she  neither  tiptoed  to  the  door  nor  listened  intently. 
From  the  telephone,  which  was  on  the  desk,  she  walked 
over  to  the  strongest  looking  chair,  carried  it  to  the 
discarded  fireplace,  mounted  and  peered  into  the  little 


i8  MRS.     BALFAME 

cupboard  the  canny  doctor  had  had  built  into  the  old 
chimney  after  the  furnace  was  installed.  There  Dr. 
Anna  kept  her  experimental  drugs,  her  mother's  seed 
pearls  and  diamond  brooch,  and  a  roll  of  what  she 
called  emergency  bills. 

The  vial  was  almost  in  the  middle  of  a  row  of  bot 
tles.  Mrs.  Balfame  recognised  it  at  once.  She 
secreted  it  in  the  little  bag  that  still  hung  on  her  arm, 
replaced  it  with  another  small  bottle  that  had  stood 
nearer  the  end  of  the  row,  closed  the  door  and  restored 
the  chair  to  its  proper  place.  Could  anything  be  more 
simple  ? 

She  was  too  careful  of  her  best  tailored  suit  to  lie 
down,  but  she  arranged  herself  comfortably  in  a  corner 
of  the  davenport  and  closed  her  eyes.  Soothed  by  the 
warmth  of  the  room  and  the  organ  tones  in  the  kitchen 
she  drifted  into  a  happy  state  of  somnolence,  from 
which  she  was  aroused  by  the  entrance  of  her  hostess 
with  a  tray.  She  sprang  up  guiltily. 

"I  had  no  intention  of  falling  asleep  —  I  meant  to 
set  the  table  at  least  — " 

"  Those  cat  naps  are  what  has  kept  you  young  and 
beautiful,  while  the  rest  of  us  have  traded  complexions 
for  hides." 

Mrs.  Balfame  gracefully  insisted  upon  clearing  and 
laying  a  corner  of  the  table,  and  the  two  friends  sat 
down  and  chatted  gaily  over  their  tea  and  toast  and 
preserves.  Dr.  Anna's  face  —  a  square  face  with  a 
snub  nose  and  kindly  twinkling  eyes  —  beamed  as  her 
friend  complimented  her  upon  the  erudition  she  had 
displayed  in  her  reply  to  the  Club  guest  and  added 
wistfully : 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  didn't  know  a  thing  about  this  war. 


MRS.     BALFAME  19 

Everybody  contradicts  everybody  else,  and  sometimes 
they  contradict  themselves.  I'm  going  over  to-mor 
row  "  ("going  over"  meant  New  York  in  the  Elsi- 
nore  tongue)  "and  get  all  the  books  that  have  been 
printed  on  the  subject,  and  read  up.  I  do  feel  so  ig 
norant." 

"  That's  a  large  order.  When  you've  dug  through 
them  you'll  know  less  than  you  could  get  from  the 
headlines  of  the  '  anti '  evening  papers.  I'll  hunt  up 
a  list  that  was  given  me  by  a  patient  who  claims  to 
be  neutral,  if  you  really  want  it,  and  leave  it  at  your 
house  in  the  morning.  It's  at  the  office." 

"Oh,  please  do!"  Mrs.  Balfame  leaned  eagerly 
across  the  table.  "  You  know,  it  is  my  turn  to  read  a 
paper  Friday  week,  and  literally  I  can  think  of  nothing 
else  except  this  terrible  but  most  interesting  war.  Of 
course,  I  must  display  some  real  knowledge  and  not 
deal  merely  in  adjectives  and  generalities.  I'll  read 
night  and  day  —  I  suppose  I  can  get  all  those  books 
from  two  or  three  New  York  libraries?  " 

"Enid  Balfame,  you  are  a  wonder!  When  you 
buckle  down  to  a  thing!  Who  but  you  would  take 
hold  of  a  subject  like  that  with  the  idea  of  mastering 
it  in  two  weeks  —  Oh,  bother !  " 

The  telephone  was  ringing.  Dr.  Anna  tilted  back 
her  chair  and  lifted  the  receiver  from  the  desk  to  her 
ear.  She  put  it  down  almost  immediately.  "  Hurry 
call,"  she  said  briefly,  an  intense  professional  concen 
tration  banishing  the  pleasant  relaxation  of  a  moment 
before.  "  Baby.  Sorry.  Leave  the  key  under  the 
door  mat.  Don't  hurry."  She  was  putting  on  her 
wraps  in  the  hall  as  she  called  back  her  last  words. 
The  front  door  banged  simultaneously. 


20  MRS.    BALFAME 

Mrs.  Balfame  piled  the  dishes  on  the  tray,  carried 
them  out  into  the  kitchen,  washed  and  put  them  away. 
She  was  a  very  methodical  woman  and  exquisitely 
neat.  Although  she  no  longer  did  her  own  kitchen 
work,  it  would  have  distressed  her  to  leave  her  friend's 
little  home  at  "  sixes  and  sevens  " ;  the  soiled  dishes 
would  have  haunted  her  all  night,  or  at  least  until  she 
fell  asleep. 

After  she  had  also  arranged  the  publications  on  the 
sitting-room  table  in  neat  rows  she  put  on  her  coat  and 
hat,  turned  off  all  the  lights,  secreted  the  key  as  re 
quested  and  walked  briskly  down  the  path.  There  was 
a  street  lamp  directly  in  front  of  the  gate.  Its  light 
fell  on  the  face  of  a  man  emerging  from  the  heavy 
shadow  of  the  maple  trees  that  bordered  the  avenue. 
She  recognised  her  husband's  lawyer,  Dwight  Rush. 

"  What  luck !  "  he  exclaimed  boyishly.  "  Now  I  shall 
talk  to  you  for  at  least  five  minutes  —  ten,  if  you  will 
walk  slowly !  What  are  you  doing  out  so  late  alone  ?  " 

Mrs.  Balfame  glanced  apprehensively  up  and  down 
the  street.  All  the  windows  were  alight,  but  it  was  too 
late  in  the  season  for  loitering  on  verandas;  even  if 
they  met  any  one,  recognition  would  hardly  be  possible 
unless  the  encounter  took  place  under  a  street  lamp. 
Moreover,  she  was  one  of  those  women  who  while 
rarely  terrified  when  alone  became  intensely  feminine 
when  a  man  appeared  with  his  archaic  right  to  shield 
and  protect.  She  smiled  graciously. 

"  You  may  see  me  to  my  gate,"  she  said. 

"  I  should  think  I  might !  A  pistol  at  my  head 
wouldn't  keep  me  from  walking  these  few  blessed  min 
utes  with  you.  Seriously,  it's  not  safe  for  you  to  be 
out  alone  like  this.  There  were  three  burglaries  last 


MRS.     BALFAME  21 

week,  and  you  are  just  the  woman  to  have  her  bag 
snatched." 

She  drew  closer  to  him,  a  faint  accent  of  alarm  in 
her  voice. 

"  I  never  thought  of  that.  But  Anna  was  called  off 
in  a  hurry.  I  am  so  glad  you  happened  along.  Al 
though,"  primly,  "  it  wouldn't  do,  you  know,  for  a 
woman  of  my  age  and  position  to  be  seen  walking 
alone  with  a  young  man  at  night." 

"What  nonsense!  You  are  like  Caesar's  wife,  I 
guess.  Anything  you  did  in  this  town  would  seem 
about  right.  You've  got  them  all  hypnotised,  includ 
ing  myself.  It's  the  ambition  of  my  life  to  know  you 
better,"  he  added  in  a  more  serious  tone.  "Why 
won't  you  let  me  call  ?  " 

"  It  wouldn't  do.  If  I  have  a  nice  position  it's  be 
cause  I've  always  been  so  particular.  If  I  let  young 
men  call  on  me,  people  would  say  that  I  was  no  better 
than  that  fast  bunch  that  tangoes  every  night  and  goes 
to  road  houses  and  things."  Her  voice  trailed  off 
vaguely;  she  really  knew  very  little  of  the  doings  of 
"  gay  sets,"  although  much  in  the  abstract  of  a  too 
temperamental  world. 

She  made  up  her  mind  to  dispose  of  this  misguided 
young  man  once  for  all.  She  knew  that  she  looked 
quite  ten  years  younger  than  her  age,  and  she  was 
well  aware  that  although  man's  passion  might  be  busi 
ness  his  pastime  was  the  hunt. 

"  I  am  thankful  that  I  have  no  grown  daughter  to 
keep  from  running  with  that  bunch,"  she  said  play 
fully.  "Of  course  I  might  have.  I  am  quite  old 
enough." 

He  laughed  outright.     Then  he  said  the  old  thing 


22  MRS.     BALFAME 

which  is  ever  new  to  the  woman,  and  with  a  per 
ceptible  softening  in  his  hard  energetic  voice :  "  I  won 
der  if  you  really  are  as  conventional  —  conventionised 

—  as  you  perhaps  think  you  are  ?     You  always  give  me 
the  impression  of  being  two  women,  one  fast  asleep 
deep  down  somewhere,  the  other  not  even  suspecting 
her  existence." 

"  How  pretty !  "  She  smiled  with  pleasure,  and  she 
felt  a  faint  stirring  of  coquetry,  as  if  the  ghost  of  her 
youth  were  rising  —  that  far-off  period  when  she  put 
on  her  best  ribbons  and  made  her  best  pies  to  allure  the 
marriageable  swains  of  Elsinore.  But  she  recalled 
herself  quickly  and  frowned.  "  You  must  not  say 
such  things  to  me,"  she  said  coldly. 

"  But  I  shall,  and  I  will  add  that  I  wish  you  were  a 
widow,  or  had  never  been  married.  I  should  propose 
to  you  this  minute." 

"  That  is  equivalent  to  saying  that  you  wish  my  hus 
band  were  dead.  And  he  is  your  friend,  too !  " 

"  Your  husband  is  not  my  friend ;  he  is  my  employer 

—  upon  occasion.     At  the  moment  I  did  not  remember 
who  was  your  husband.     Let  it  go  at  that." 

"  Very  well." 

It  was  evident  that  he  belonged  to  the  type  that  found 
its  amusement  in  making  love  to  married  women ;  but  — 
they  were  within  the  rays  of  a  lamp,  and  sauntering  — 
she  looked  up  at  this  pleasant  exponent  indulgently. 
She  was  quite  safe,  and  it  was  by  no  means  detestable 
at  the  age  of  forty-two  to  be  coveted  by  the  cleverest 
young  man  in  Brabant  County. 

The  smile  left  her  lips  and  she  experienced  a  faint 
vibration  of  the  nerves  as  she  met  the  unsmiling  eyes 
bent  close  above  her  own. 


MRS.     BALFAME  23 

Rush  was  almost  drab  in  colour,  but  the  bones  of  his 
face  were  large  and  his  eyes  were  deeply  set  and  well 
apart,  intensely  blue  and  brilliant.  It  was  one  of  those 
narrow  rigid  faces  the  exigencies  of  his  century  and 
country  have  bred,  the  jaw  long  and  almost  as  salient 
as  that  of  a  consumptive,  the  brow  bold,  the  mouth 
hard  set,  the  cheeks  lean  and  cut  with  deep  lines,  the 
whole  effect  not  only  keen  and  clever  but  stronger  than 
any  man  has  consistently  been  since  the  world  began. 
The  curious  contradiction  about  this  type  of  American 
face  is  that  it  almost  invariably  looks  younger  than  the 
years  that  have  contributed  to  the  modelling  of  it ;  such 
men,  particularly  if  smoothly  shaven  as  they  usually 
are,  look  thirty  at  forty;  even  at  fifty,  if  they  retain 
their  hair,  appear  but  little  older.  When  Rush's 
mouth  was  relaxed  it  could  smile  charmingly,  and  the 
eyes  fill  with  playfulness  and  vivacity,  just  as  his 
strident  American  voice  could  move  a  jury  to  tears  by 
the  tears  that  were  in  it. 

At  this  moment  all  the  intensity  of  which  his  strik 
ing  features  were  capable  was  concentrated  in  his  eyes. 

"  I'm  not  going  to  make  love  to  you  as  matters 
stand,"  he  said,  his  voice  dry  with  emotion.  "  But  I 
want  you  to  divorce  Dave  Balfame  and  marry  me. 
Sooner  or  later  you  will  be  driven  to  it  — " 

"  Never !  I'll  never  be  a  divorced  woman.  Never ! 
Never!" 

His  steady  gaze  wavered  and  he  sighed.  "  You  said 
that  as  if  you  meant  it.  You  think  you  are  intellectual, 
and  you  haven't  outgrown  one  of  the  prejudices  of 
your  Puritan  grandmothers  —  who  behaved  them 
selves  because  women  were  scarce  and  even  better 
treated  than  they  are  now,  and  because  they  would 


24  MRS.     BALFAME 


have  been  too  mean  to  spend  money  on  a  divorce  suit 
if  divorces  had  come  into  fashion  elsewhere." 

"  You  are  far  from  complimentary ! "  Mrs.  Bal- 
fame  raised  her  head  stiffly,  not  a  little  indignant  at  this 
natural  display  of  sheer  masculinity.  She  would  have 
withdrawn  her  arm  and  hastened  her  steps  but  he  held 
her  back. 

"  I  don't  mean  to  be  uncomplimentary.  Only,  you 
ought  to  be  so  much  more  advanced  than  you  are.  I 
repeat,  I  shall  not  make  downright  love  to  you,  for  I 
intend  to  marry  you  one  of  these  days.  But  I  shall 
say  what  I  choose.  How  much  longer  do  you  think 
you  can  go  on  living  like  this  ? —  with  a  man  you  must 
despise  and  from  whom  you  must  suffer  indignities  — 
and  in  this  hole  — " 

"  You  live  here  — '' 

"  I  came  back  here  because  I  had  a  good  offer  and  I 
like  the  East  better  than  the  West,  but  I  have  no  in 
tention  of  staying  here.  I  have  reason  to  believe  that 
I  shall  get  into  a  New  York  firm  next  spring ;  and  once 
started  on  that  race-course  I  purpose  to  come  in  a 
winner." 

"  And  you  would  saddle  yourself  with  a  wife  many 
years  your  senior  ?  "  she  asked  wonderingly. 

But  she  thrilled  again,  and  unconsciously  moderated 
her  gait  still  further ;  they  were  but  a  few  steps  from 
her  home. 

"  I  am  thirty-four.  I  am  sorry  that  I  have  im 
pressed  you  as  looking  too  young  to  be  taken  seriously, 
but  you  will  admit  that  if  a  man  doesn't  know  his  own 
mind  when  he  is  verging  toward  middle  age,  he  never 
will.  But  if  I  were  only  twenty-five,  it  would  make  no 
difference.  I  would  marry  you  like  a  shot.  I  never 


MRS.     BALFAME  25 

have  given  a  thought  to  marrying  before.  Girls  don't 
interest  me.  They  show  their  hand  too  plainly.  I've 
always  had  a  sort  of  ideal  and  you  fill  it." 

It  was  characteristic  of  Mrs.  Bal fame's  well-ordered 
mind  that  her  intention  to  murder  her  husband  did  not 
intrude  itself  into  this  unique  and  provocative  hour. 
She  had  never  indulged  in  a  passing  desire  to  marry 
again,  and  hers  was  not  the  order  of  mind  that  somer 
saults.  But  she  was  willing  to  "  let  herself  go,"  for 
the  sake  of  the  experience;  for  the  first  time  in  her 
twenty  odd  years  of  married  life  to  loiter  in  a  leafy 
shadowy  street  with  a  man  who  loved  her  and  made  no 
secret  of  it. 

"  I  wonder  ?  "  She  stared  up  at  him,  curiosity  in 
her  eyes. 

"Wonder  what?" 

"If  it  is  love?" 

He  laughed  unmusically.  "  I  am  not  surprised  that 
you  ask  that  question  —  you,  who  know  no  more  of 
love  than  if  you  had  been  a  castaway  on  a  desert  island 
since  the  age  of  ten.  Never  mind.  I've  planted  a 
seed.  It  will  sprout.  Think  and  think  again.  You 
owe  me  that  much  —  and  yourself.  I  know  that  six 
months  hence  you  will  have  divorced  Dave  Bal  fame, 
and  that  you  will  marry  me  as  soon  as  the  law  allows." 

"  Never !  Never ! "  She  was  laughing  now,  but 
with  all  the  gay  coquetry  of  youth,  not  merely  the  eidola 
of  her  own. 

They  had  arrived  at  the  gate  of  the  Balfame  Place, 
which  faced  the  avenue  and  a  large  street  lamp.  She 
put  the  gate  between  them  with  a  quicker  movement 
than  she  commonly  indulged  in  and  held  out  her  hand. 

"  No  more  nonsense!     If  I  were  young  and  free  — 


26  MRS.     BALFAME 

who  knows  ?  But  —  but  —  forty-two !  "  She  choked 
but  brought  it  out.  "  Now  go  home  and  think  over 
all  the  nice  girls  you  know  and  select  one  quickly.  I 
will  make  the  wedding  cake." 

"  Did  you  suppose  I  didn't  know  your  age  ?  This 
is  Elsinore,  and  its  inhabitants  are  five  thousand. 
When  you  and  I  were  born  —  of  respectably  eminent 
parentage  —  all  Brabant  County  numbered  few  more." 

He  made  no  attempt  to  open  the  gate,  but  he  raised 
her  hand  to  his  lips.  Even  in  that  rare  moment  he  was 
conscious  of  a  regret  that  it  was  such  a  large  hand, 
and  his  head  jerked  abruptly  as  he  flung  out  the  recreant 
thought. 

"  I  never  shall  change,"  he  said.  "  And  you  are  to 
think  and  think.  Now  go.  I'll  watch  until  you  are 
indoors." 

"  Good  night."  She  ran  up  the  path,  wondering  if 
her  tall  slight  figure  looked  as  willowy  as  it  felt.  The 
mirror  had  often  surprised  her  with  the  information 
that  she  looked  quite  different  from  the  image  in  her 
mind.  She  also  wondered,  with  some  humour,  why  no 
one  ever  had  discovered  her  apparently  obvious  charms 
before. 

When  she  was  in  her  bedroom  and  electricity  re 
placed  the  mellow  rays  of  street  lamps  shining  through 
soft  and  whispering  leaves,  Mrs.  Balfame  forgot 
Dwight  Rush  and  all  men  save  her  husband. 

She  took  the  vial  from  her  bag  and  stared  at  it. 
In  a  moment  a  frown  drew  her  serene  brows  together, 
her  sweet,  shallow,  large  grey  eyes,  so  consistently  ad 
mired  by  her  own  sex  at  least,  darkened  with  displeas 
ure.  She  was  a  bungler  after  all.  How  was  the  stuff 
to  be  administered  ?  She  racked  her  memory,  but  the 


MRS.     BALFAME  27 

casual  explanation  of  Dr.  Anna,  uttered  at  least  two 
years  ago,  had  left  not  an  echo.  A  drop  in  his  eggs  or 
coffee  might  be  too  little;  more,  and  he  might  detect 
the  foreign  quantity. 

She  removed  the  cork  and  sniffed.  It  was  odourless, 
but  was  it  tasteless? 

Obviously  there  was  no  immediate  way  of  ascertain 
ing  save  by  experiment  on  Mr.  Balfame.  And  even  if 
it  were  tasteless,  it  might  cook  his  blood,  congest  his 
face,  burst  his  veins  —  she  recalled  snatches  of  Dr. 
Anna's  dissertations  upon  "  interesting  cases."  On 
the  other  hand,  one  drop  might  make  him  violently  ill ; 
the  suspicions  of  any  doctor  might  be  aroused. 

She  must  walk  warily.  Murder  was  one  of  the 
fine  arts.  Those  that  cultivated  it  and  failed  followed 
the  victim  or  spent  the  rest  of  their  lives  within  prison 
walls.  Thousands,  it  was  estimated,  walked  the  earth 
unsuspected,  unapprehensive,  serene  and  content  — 
contemptuous  of  failures  and  bunglers,  as  are  the  mas 
ters  in  any  art.  Mrs.  Balfame  was  proudly  aware 
that  her  role  in  life  was  success. 

There  was  nothing  to  do  but  wait.  She  must  have 
another  cosy  evening  with  her  scientific  friend  and 
draw  her  on  to  talk  of  the  poison.  Ah!  that  made  an 
other  precaution  imperative. 

She  went  to  the  cupboard  in  the  bathroom,  rinsed  a 
small  bottle,  transferred  the  precious  colorless  fluid,  re 
filled  the  vial  with  water  and  returned  it  to  her  bag. 
To-morrow  or  next  day  she  would  slip  into  Dr.  Anna's 
house  and  restore  it  to  its  hiding  place.  The  poison 
she  secreted  on  the  top  shelf  of  the  bathroom  cupboard. 

Reluctantly,  for  she  was  a  prompt  and  methodical 
woman,  she  resigned  herself  to  the  prospect  of  David 


28  MRS.     BALFAME 

Bal fame's  prolonged  sojourn  upon  the  planet  he  had 
graced  so  ill.  She  went  to  bed,  shrinking  into  the 
farther  corner,  but  falling  asleep  almost  immediately. 
Then,  her  hands  having  faltered,  Fate  borrowed  the 
shuttle. 


CHAPTER  III 

A  FORTNIGHT  passed  before  Mrs.  Balfame 
found  the  opportunity  for  a  chat  with  Dr.  Anna. 

On  Saturday  afternoons  it  was  the  pleasant  custom 
of  the  flower  of  Elsinore  to  repair  to  the  Country  Club, 
a  building  of  the  bungalow  type,  with  wide  verandas, 
a  large  central  hall,  several  smaller  rooms  for  those 
that  preferred  cards  to  dancing,  a  secluded  bar,  a  tennis 
court  —  flooded  in  winter  for  skating  —  and  a  golf 
links.  It  was  charmingly  situated  about  four  miles 
from  the  town,  with  the  woods  behind  and  a  glimpse 
of  the  grey  Atlantic  from  the  higher  knolls. 

The  young  unmarried  set  that  danced  at  the  Club 
or  in  the  larger  of  the  home  parlours  every  night  would 
have  monopolised  the  central  hall  of  the  bungalow  on 
Saturdays  as  well  had  it  not  been  for  the  sweet  but  firm 
resistance  of  Mrs.  Balfame.  Lacking  in  a  proper  sex 
vanity  she  might  be,  but  she  was  far  too  proud  and  just 
to  permit  her  own  generation  to  be  obliterated  by  mere 
youth.  Having  no  children  of  her  own,  it  shocked  her 
fine  sense  of  the  fitness  of  things  to  watch  the  sub 
servience  of  parents  and  the  selfishness  of  offspring. 
One  of  the  most  notable  results  of  her  quiet  determina 
tion  was  that  she  and  her  friends  enjoyed  every  privi 
lege  of  the  Country  Club  when  the  mood  was  on  them, 
and  that  a  goodly  number  of  the  men  of  their  own 
generation  did  not  confine  their  attentions  exclusively 
to  the  bar,  but  came  out  and  danced  with  their  neigh- 

29 


30  MRS.     BALFAME 

hours'  wives.  The  young  people  sniffed,  but  as  Mrs. 
Balfame  had  founded  the  Country  Club,  and  they  were 
all  helpless  under  her  inflexible  will  and  skilful  ma 
nipulation,  they  never  dreamed  of  rebellion. 

During  the  fortnight  Mrs.  Balfame  had  cunningly 
replaced  the  vial,  the  indifferent  Cassie  leaving  the  sit 
ting-room  at  her  disposal  while  she  wrote  a  note  re 
minding  Dr.  Anna  of  the  promised  list  of  war  books, 
adding  playfully  that  she  had  no  time  to  waste  in  a 
busy  doctor's  waiting-room.  In  truth  Dr.  Anna  was  a 
difficult  person  to  see  at  this  time.  There  was  an  epi 
demic  of  typhoid  in  the  county,  and  much  illness  among 
children. 

However,  on  the  third  Saturday  after  the  interrupted 
supper,  as  Mrs.  Balfame  was  motoring  out  to  the  Club 
with  her  friend,  Mrs.  Battle,  wife  of  the  President  of 
the  Bank  of  Elsinore,  she  saw  Dr.  Anna  driving  her 
little  runabout  down  a  branching  road.  With  a  grace 
ful  excuse  she  deserted  her  hostess,  sprang  into  the 
humbler  machine,  and  gaily  ordered  her  friend  to  turn 
and  drive  to  the  Club. 

"  You  take  a  rest  this  afternoon,"  she  said  per 
emptorily.  "  Otherwise  you  will  be  a  wreck  when 
your  patients  need  you  most.  You  look  just  about 
fagged  out.  And  I  want  a  little  of  your  society.  I've 
been  thinking  of  taking  to  a  sick  bed  to  get  it." 

Dr.  Anna  looked  at  her  brilliant  friend  with  an  ex 
pression  of  dumb  gratitude  and  adoration.  She  was 
worth  one  hundred  per  cent,  more  than  this  companion 
of  her  forty  years,  but  she  never  would  know  it.  She 
regarded  Enid  Balfame  as  one  of  the  superwomen  of 
Earth,  astray  in  the  little  world  of  Elsinore.  Even 
when  Mrs.  Balfame  had  done  her  own  work  she  had 


MRS.    BALFAME  31 

managed  to  look  rare  and  lovely.  Her  hair  was  neatly 
arranged  for  the  day  before  descent  to  the  lower  re 
gions,  and  her  pretty  print  frock  was  half  covered  by  a 
white  apron  as  immaculate  as  her  round  uncovered 
arms. 

And  since  the  leader  of  Elsinore  had  "  learned 
things  "  she  was  of  an  elegance  whose  differences  from 
those  of  women  born  to  grace  a  loftier  sphere  were 
merely  subtle.  Her  fine  brown  hair,  waved  in  New 
York,  and  coiled  on  the  nape  of  her  long  neck,  dis 
played  her  profile  to  the  best  possible  advantage;  like 
all  women's  women  she  set  great  store  by  her  profile. 
Whenever  possible  it  was  framed  in  a  large  hat  with  a 
rolling  brim  and  drooping  feathers.  Her  severely  tai 
lored  frocks  made  her  look  aloof  and  stately  on  the 
streets  (and  in  the  trains  between  Elsinore  and  New 
York)  ;  and  her  trim  white  shirt  waists  and  duck  skirts, 
or  "  one  piece  suits  "  for  colder  weather,  gave  her  a 
sweet  feminine  appeal  in  the  house.  At  evening  en 
tertainments  she  invariably  wore  black,  cut  chastely 
about  the  neck  and  draped  with  a  floating  scarf. 

Poor  Dr.  Anna,  uncompromisingly  plain  from  youth, 
worshipped  beauty;  moreover,  a  certain  mental  pres 
sure  of  which  she  was  quite  unaware  caused  her  to  find 
in  Enid  Balfame  her  highest  ideal  of  womanhood. 
She  herself  was  never  trim ;  she  was  always  in  a  hurry ; 
and  the  repose  and  serenity  the  calm  and  sweet  dignity 
of  this  gifted  being  both  fascinated  and  rested  her. 
That  Mrs.  Balfame  took  all  her  female  adorers  had  to 
offer  and  gave  nothing  but  enhanced  her  worth.  She 
knew  the  priceless  value  of  the  pedestal,  and  although 
her  wonderful  smile  descended  at  discreet  intervals  her 
substantial  feet  did  not. 


32  MRS.     BALFAME 

Dr.  Anna,  who  had  never  been  sought  by  men  and 
had  seen  too  many  of  them  sick  in  bed  to  have  a  ro 
mantic  illusion  left,  gave  to  this  friend  of  her  lifetime, 
whom  the  years  touched  only  to  improve  —  and  who 
never  was  ill  —  the  dog-like  fidelity  and  love  that  a 
certain  type  of  man  offers  at  the  shrine  of  the  unattain 
able  woman.  Mrs.  Balfame  was  sometimes  amused, 
always  complacent;  but  it  must  be  conceded  that  she 
took  no  advantage  of  the  blind  devotion  of  either  Dr. 
Anna  or  her  numerous  other  admirers.  She  was  far 
too  proud  to  "  use  "  people. 

Mrs.  Balfame  seldom  discussed  her  domestic  trials 
even  with  Dr.  Anna,  but  this  most  intimate  of  her 
friends  guessed  that  her  life  with  her  husband  was  rap 
idly  growing  unendurable.  She  was,  naturally,  the 
family  doctor;  she  had  nursed  David  Balfame  through 
several  gastric  attacks,  whose  cause  was  not  far  to  seek. 

But  despite  much  that  was  highly  artificial  in  her 
personality,  Enid  Balfame  was  elementally  what  would 
be  called,  in  the  vernacular  of  the  day,  a  regular  fe 
male;  for  a  fortnight  she  had  longed  to  talk  about 
D wight  Rush.  This  was  the  time  to  gratify  an  inno 
cent  desire  while  watching  sharply  for  an  opportunity 
to  play  for  higher  stakes. 

"  Anna !  "  she  said  abruptly,  as  they  sped  along  the 
fine  road,  "  women  like  and  admire  me  so  much,  and 
I  am  passably  good  looking  —  young  looking,  too  — 
what  do  you  suppose  is  the  reason  men  don't  fall  in 
love  with  me?  Dave  says  that  half  the  men  in  town 
are  mixed  up  with  those  telephone  and  telegraph  girls, 
and  they  are  pretty  in  the  commonest  kind  of  way — " 

"  Enid  Balfame !  "  Dr.  Anna  struggled  to  recover 
her  scandalised  breath.  "  You !  Do  you  put  your- 


MRS.     BALFAME  33 

self  in  the  class  with  those  trollops?  What's  got  into 
you?  Men  are  men.  Naturally  they  let  your  sort 
alone." 

"  But  I  have  heard  more  than  whispers  about  two 
or  three  of  our  good  friends  —  women  of  our  age,  not 
giddy  young  fools  —  and  in  our  own  set.  Why  do 
Mary  Frew  and  Lottie  Gifning  go  over  to  New  York 
so  often?  Dave  says  it  isn't  only  that  women  from 
these  dull  little  towns  go  over  to  New  York  to  meet 
their  lovers,  but  that  some  of  them  are  the  up-town 
wives  of  millionaires,  or  the  day-time  wives  of  all 
sorts  of  men  with  money  enough  to  run  two  establish 
ments.  It  is  a  hideous  world  and  I  never  ask  for  par 
ticulars,  but  the  fact  remains  that  Lottie  and  Mary 
and  a  few  others  have  as  many  partners  among  the 
young  men  at  the  dances  as  the  girls  do;  and  I  can 
recall  hints  they  have  thrown  out  that  they  could  go 
farther  if  they  chose." 

"  This  is  a  busy  country,"  remarked  Dr.  Anna  drily. 
"  Men  don't  waste  time  chasing  the  prettiest  of  women 
when  convinced  there  is  nothing  in  it  —  to  borrow 
the  classic  form.  Young  chaps,  urged  on  by  natural 
law  to  find  their  mate,  will  pursue  the  indifferent 
girl,  but  men  looking  for  a  little  play  after  business 
hours  will  not.  ,Why,  you  —  you  look  as  cold  and 
chaste  as  Caesar's  wife.  They  couldn't  waste  five  min 
utes  on  you." 

"  That's  what  he  said  —  that  I  was  like  Caesar's 
wife—" 

"  Enid !  "  Dr.  Anna  stopped  the  little  machine  and 
turned  upon  her  friend,  her  wreary  face  compact  and 
stern.  "Enid  Balfame!  Have  you  been  letting  a 
man  make  love  to  you  ?  " 


34  MRS.     BALFAME 

"  Well,  I  guess  not."  Mrs.  Balfame  tossed  her  head 
and  bridled.  "  But  the  other  night,  when  I  left  your 
house,  Mr.  Rush  was  passing  and  saw  me  home.  He 
nearly  took  my  breath  away  by  asking  me  to  get  a 
divorce  and  marry  him,  but  he  respected  me  too  much 
to  make  love  to  me." 

"  I  should  hope  so.  The  young  fool !  "  But  Dr. 
Anna  was  unspeakably  relieved.  She  had  turned  faint 
at  the  thought  that  her  idol  might  be  as  many  other 
women  whose  secrets  she  alone  knew.  "  What  did 
you  say  to  him  ?  "  she  asked  curiously,  driving  very 
slowly. 

"  Why,  that  I  would  not  be  a  divorced  woman  for 
anything  in  the  world." 

"  You're  not  the  least  bit  in  love  with  him?  "  asked 
Dr.  Anna  jealously. 

Mrs.  Balfame  gave  her  silvery  shallow  care- free 
laugh.  It  might  have  come  from  any  of  the  machines 
passing,  laden  with  young  girls.  "  Well,  I  guess  not ! 
That  sort  of  foolishness  never  did  interest  me.  I  guess 
my  vanity  was  tickled,  but  vanity  isn't  love  —  by  a  long 
sight." 

Dr.  Anna  looked  at  the  pure  cold  profile,  the  wide 
cool  grey  eyes,  and  laughed.  "  He  did  have  courage, 
poor  devil!  It  must  have  been  —  no,  there  was  no 
moonlight.  Must  have  been  the  suggestion  of  that  old 
Lovers'  Lane,  Elsinore  Avenue.  But  if  you  wanted 
men  to  make  love  to  you,  my  dear,  you  could  have 
them  by  the  dozen.  Nothing  easier  —  for  pretty 
women  of  any  age  who  want  to  be  made  love  to.  As 
for  Rush — "  She  hesitated,  then  added  generously, 
"  he  has  a  future,  I  think,  and  could  take  you  some 
where  else." 


MRS.    BALFAME  35 

"  I  should  be  like  a  fish  out  of  water  anywhere  but 
in  Elsinore.  I  have  no  delusions.  Forty-two  is  not 
young  —  that  is  to  say,  it  is  long  past  the  adaptable 
age,  unless  a  woman  has  spent  her  life  on  the  move 
and  filling  it  with  variety.  I  love  Elsinore  as  a  cat 
loves  its  hearth-rug.  And  I  can  get  to  New  York  in 
an  hour.  I  think  this  would  be  the  ideal  life  with 
about  two  thousand  dollars  more  a  year,  and  — 
and—" 

"Dave  Balfame  somewhere  else!  Pity  Sam  Cum- 
mack  didn't  turn  him  into  a  travelling  salesman  instead 
of  planting  him  here." 

"  He's  never  been  interested  in  anything  in  his  life 
but  politics.  But  I  don't  really  bother  about  him,"  she 
added  lightly.  "  I  have  him  well  trained.  After  all, 
he  never  comes  home  to  lunch,  he  interferes  with  me 
very  little,  he  goes  to  the  Elks  every  night  soon  after 
dinner,  and  he  falls  asleep  the  minute  he  gets  into  bed. 
Why,  he  doesn't  even  snore.  And  he  carries  his  liquor 
pretty  well.  I  guess  you  can't  expect  much  more  than 
that  after  twenty-two  years  of  matrimony.  I  notice 
that  if  it  isn't  one  thing  it's  another." 

"Good  Lord!    Well,  I  wish  he'd  break  his  neck." 

"Oh,  Anna!" 

"  Well,  of  course  I  didn't  mean  it.  But  I  see  so 
many  good  people  die  —  so  many  lovely  children  — 
I'm  sort  of  callous,  I  guess.  I  make  no  bones  of  wish 
ing  that  he'd  died  of  typhoid  fever  last  week,  instead 
of  poor  Joe  Morton,  who  had  a  wife  and  two  children 
to  support,  and  was  the  salt  of  the  earth  — " 

"  You  might  give  Dave  a  few  germs  in  a  capsule !  " 
Mrs.  Balfame  interrupted  in  her  lightest  tones,  al 
though  she  turned  her  face  away.  "  Or  that  untrace- 


36  MRS.     BALFAME 

able  poison  you  once  showed  me.     A  bottle  of  that 
would  finish  him !  " 

"  A  drop  and  none  the  wiser."  Dr.  Anna's  con 
tralto  tones  were  gloomy  and  morose.  "  Unfortun 
ately,  I  am  not  scientific  enough  for  cold-blooded  mur 
der.  I'm  a  silly  old  Utopian  who  wishes  that  a  plague 
would  come  and  sweep  all  the  undesirables  from  the 
earth  and  let  us  start  fair  with  our  modern  wisdom. 
Then  I  suppose  we'd  bore  one  another  to  death  until 
original  sin  cropped  out  again.  Better  speed  up,  I 
guess.  I've  a  full  evening  ahead  of  me." 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  "  smart  set "  of  Elsinore  was  composed  of 
the  twelve  women  that  could  afford  to  lose  most 
at  bridge.  Mrs.  Balfame,  who  could  ill  afford  to  lose 
anything,  but  who  was  both  a  scientific  and  a  lucky 
player,  insisted  upon  moderate  stakes.  The  other 
members  of  this  inner  exclusive  circle  were  the  wives 
of  two  bankers,  three  contractors,  two  prosperous  mer 
chants,  one  judge,  one  doctor,  and  two  commuters  who 
made  their  incomes  in  New  York  and  slept  in  Elsinore. 
These  ladies  made  it  a  point  of  honor  to  dine  at  seven, 
dress  smartly  and  appropriately  for  all  occasions,  at 
tend  everything  worth  while  to  which  they  could  ob 
tain  entrance  in  New  York,  pay  an  occasional  visit  to 
Europe,  read  the  new  novels  and  attend  the  symphony 
concerts.  It  is  superfluous  to  add  that  the  very 
foundation  of  the  superior  social  status  of  each  was 
a  large  house  of  the  affluent  type  peculiar  to  the  pros 
perous  annexes  of  old  communities,  half  brick  and  half 
wood,  shallow,  characterless,  impersonal;  and  a  fine 
car  with  a  limousine  top.  The  house  stood  in  the 
midst  of  a  lawn  sloping  to  the  street,  unconfined  by 
even  the  box  hedge  and  undivided  from  the  neigh 
bouring  grounds.  The  garage,  little  less  pretentious 
than  the  mansion,  also  faced  the  street,  for  all  to  see. 
There  was  hardly  a  horse  left  in  Elsinore;  taxi  cabs 
awaited  the  traveller  at  the  station,  and  people  that 
could  not  afford  handsome  cars  purchased  and  enjoyed 
the  inexpensive  runabout. 

37 


38  MRS.     BALFAME 

Mrs.  Balfame  had  segregated  her  smart  set  for  stra 
tegic  reasons,  but  that  did  not  mean  that  both  she 
and  they  were  not  kindness  itself  to  the  less  favoured. 
Obviously,  an  imposing  party  cannot  be  given  by  twelve 
families  alone,  especially  when  almost  half  their  num 
ber  are  childless.  On  all  state  occasions  the  list  of 
invited  numbered  several  hundred,  in  that  town  of 
some  five  thousand  inhabitants. 

It  said  much  for  the  innate  nobility  of  these 
wealthier  dames  of  Elsinore,  who  read  the  New  York 
society  papers  quite  as  attentively  as  they  did  the  war 
news,  that  they  submitted  without  a  struggle  to  the 
dominance  of  a  woman  who  never  had  possessed  a  car 
and  whose  husband's  income  was  so  often  diverted 
from  its  natural  course;  but  Mrs.  Balfame  not  only 
outclassed  them  in  inflexibility  of  purpose,  but  her 
family  was  as  old  as  Brabant  County;  the  Dawbarns 
had  never  been  in  what  might  be  called  the  cavalry 
regiment,  consisting  of  those  few  chosen  ones  living  in 
old  colonial  houses  set  in  large  estates  and  with  both 
roots  and  branches  in  the  city  of  New  York ;  but  no  one 
disputed  their  right  to  be  called  Captains  of  the  in 
fantry.  And  Mrs.  Balfame,  sole  survivor  in  the  direct 
line,  had  two  wealthy  cousins,  in  Brooklyn. 

Once  in  a  while  Dr.  Anna,  a  privileged  character, 
and  born  at  least  in  Brabant  County,  took  a  hand  at 
bridge,  but  she  was  a  poor  player,  and,  upon  the  rare 
occasions  when  she  found  time  to  spend  a  Saturday 
afternoon  at  the  Country  Club,  preferred  to  rest  in  a 
deep  chair  and  watch  the  young  folks  flirt  and  dance 
until  the  informal  supper  was  ready.  Never  had  she 
tripped  a  step,  but  she  loved  youth,  and  it  gave  her 
an  acute  old  maid's  delight  to  observe  the  children 


MRS.     BALFAME  39 

grow  up;  snub-nosed,  freckled- faced  awkward  school 
girls  develop  at  a  flying  leap  into  slim  American  pretti- 
ness,  enhanced  with  every  late  exaggeration  of  style. 
She  also  approved  heartily,  on  hygienic  grounds,  of  the 
friends  of  her  own  generation  dancing,  even  in  public, 
if  their  partners  were  not  too  young  and  their  forms 
too  cumbersome. 

Mrs.  Balfame  and  Dr.  Anna  arrived  at  the  Club 
shortly  after  four  o'clock.  Young  people  swarmed 
everywhere,  within  and  without;  perhaps  twenty  older 
matrons  were  sitting  on  the  veranda  knitting  those 
indeterminate  toilette  accessories  for  the  Belgians 
which  always  seemed  to  be  about  to  halt  at  precisely 
the  same  stage  of  progress. 

Mrs.  Balfame,  who  had  set  the  fashion,  had  not 
brought  her  needles  to-day.  She  went  directly  to  the 
card  room ;  but  her  partner  for  the  tournament  not  hav 
ing  arrived,  she  entertained  her  impatient  friends  with 
a  recent  domestic  episode. 

"  I  have  a  German  servant,  you  know,"  she  said,  re 
moving  her  wraps  and  taking  her  seat  at  the  table. 
"  A  good  creature  and  a  hard  worker,  but  leaden- 
footed  and  dull  beyond  belief.  Still,  I  suppose  even 
the  dullest  peasant  has  spite  in  her  make-up.  I  have 
been  reading  tomes  of  books  on  the  war,  as  you  learned 
from  painful  experience  yesterday;  most  of  them,  as 
it  happened  —  a  good  joke  on  Anna  that,  as  she  gave 
me  the  list  —  quite  antagonistic  to  Germany.  One 
day  when  Frieda  should  have  been  dusting  I  caught 
her  scowling  over  the  chapter  heads  of  one  of  them. 
Of  course  she  reads  English  —  she  has  been  here  sev 
eral  years.  Day  before  yesterday,  when  I  was  knit 
ting,  she  asked  me  whom  I  was  knitting  for,  and  I 


40  MRS.     BALFAME 

told  her — for  the  Belgians,  of  course.  She  asked 
me  in  a  sort  of  growl  why  I  didn't  knit  for  the  home 
less  in  East  Prussia  —  it  seems  that  is  where  she  comes 
from  and  she  has  been  having  letters  full  of  horrors. 
I  seldom  bandy  words  with  a  servant,  for  you  can't 
permit  the  slightest  familiarity  in  this  country  if  you 
want  to  get  any  work  out  of  them.  But  as  she  scowled 
as  if  she  would  like  to  explode  a  shrapnel  under  me,  and 
as  she  is  the  third  I  have  had  in  the  last  five  months, 
I  said  soothingly  that  the  newspaper  correspondents 
had  neglected  the  eastern  theatre  of  war,  but  had  har 
rowed  our  feelings  so  about  the  Belgians  that  we  felt 
compelled  to  do  what  we  could  for  them.  Then  I 
asked  her  —  I  was  really  curious  —  if  she  had  no  sym 
pathy  for  those  thousands  of  afflicted  women  and  chil 
dren,  merely  because  they  were  the  victims  of  the  Ger 
mans.  She  has  a  big  soft  face  with  thick  lips,  little 
eyes,  and  a  rudimentary  nose ;  generally  as  expression 
less  as  such  a  face  is  bound  to  be.  But  when  I  asked 
her  this  question  it  suddenly  seemed  to  turn  to  wood  — 
not  actively  cruel ;  it  merely  expressed  the  negation  of 
all  human  sympathy.  She  turned  without  a  word  and 
slumped  —  pardon  the  expression  —  out  of  the  room. 
But  the  breakfast  was  burned  this  morning  —  I  had  to 
cook  another  for  poor  David  —  and  I  know  she  did  it 
on  purpose.  I  am  afraid  I  shall  have  to  let  her  go." 

"  I  would,"  said  Mrs.  Battle,  wisely.  "  She  is  prob 
ably  a  spy  and  quite  clever." 

"Yes,  but  such  a  worker!"  Mrs.  Balfame  sighed 
reminiscently.  "  And  when  you  have  but  one 
servant  — " 

The  tardy  partner  bustled  in  and  the  game  began. 


CHAPTER  V 

IT  was  about  six  o'clock  when  Mrs.  Balfame,  steadily 
losing,  contrary  to  all  precedent,  her  mind  concen 
trated,  her  features,  like  those  of  the  rest  of  the  play 
ers,  as  hard  as  the  stone  faces  dug  out  of  Egypt,  her 
breath  escaping  in  hissing  jets,  became  vaguely 
conscious  of  a  disturbance  in  the  outer  room.  The 
young  people  were  dancing,  as  was  usual  in  the  hour 
before  supper,  but  the  piano  and  fiddles  appeared  to 
be  playing  against  the  ribald  interruptions  of  a  man's 
voice.  It  was  some  time  before  the  narrow  flow  of 
thought  in  Mrs.  Bal fame's  brain  was  deflected  by  the 
powerful  outer  current,  but  suddenly  she  became  aware 
that  her  partners  were  holding  their  cards  suspended, 
and  that  their  ears  were  cocked  toward  the  door. 
Then  she  recognised  her  husband's  voice. 

For  a  moment  she  lost  her  breath  and  her  blood  ran 
chill.  She  had  been  apprehensive  for  some  time  of  a 
scene  in  public,  but  she  had  assumed  that  it  would 
occur  in  a  friend's  house  of  an  evening;  he  attended 
her  nowhere  else.  The  Club  he  had  deserted  long 
since ;  it  was  much  too  slow  for  a  man  of  his  increasing 
proclivities,  especially  in  a  county  liberally  provided 
with  saloons  and  road  houses. 

During  the  last  month  she  had  become  sensible  of 
a  new  hostility  in  his  attitude  toward  her;  it  was  as  if 
he  had  suddenly  penetrated  her  hidden  aversion  and 
all  his  masculine  vanity  had  risen  in  revolt.  Being  a 

41 


42  MRS.     BALFAME 

woman  of  an  almost  excessive  tact,  she  had  sprayed 
this  vanity  for  twenty-two  years  with  the  delicately 
scented  waters  of  flattery,  but  the  springs  had  gone 
suddenly  dry  on  that  morning  when  she  had  uttered 
her  simple  and  natural  desire  to  bring  the  conjugal 
sleeping  accommodations  up  to  date. 

And  now  he  had  come  out  here  to  disgrace  her,  she 
immediately  concluded,  to  make  her  a  figure  of  fun, 
to  destroy  her  social  leadership.  This  might  also  in 
volve  him  in  a  loss,  but  when  a  man  is  both  drunk  and 
angry  his  foresight  grows  dim  and  revenge  is  sweet. 

Only  last  night  there  had  been  an  intensely  disagree 
able  scene  in  private;  that  is  to  say,  she  had  been  dig 
nified  and  slightly  contemptuous,  while  he  had  shouted 
that  her  knitting  got  on  his  nerves,  and  the  sight  of  all 
those  books  on  the  war  made  him  sick.  When  the 
whole  business  of  the  country  was  held  up  by  this 
accursed  war,  a  man  would  like  to  forget  it  when 
at  home.  And  every  man  had  the  same  story,  by  God ; 
his  wife  was  knitting  when  she  ought  to  be  darning 
stockings ;  trying  to  be  intellectual  by  concerning  her 
self  with  a  subject  that  concerned  men  alone.  Mr. 
Balfame  had  always  resented  the  Woman's  Club,  and 
all  talk  of  votes  for  a  sex  that  would  put  him  and  his 
kind  out  of  business.  Their  intelligent  interest  in  the 
war  was  a  grievous  personal  indignity. 

Being  a  woman  of  clear  thought  and  firm  purpose, 
and  of  a  really  high  order  of  moral  courage,  Mrs.  Bal 
fame  was  daunted  for  a  moment  only.  She  laid  down 
her  cards,  opened  the  door  and  entered  the  main  room 
of  the  club-house.  There  she  saw,  at  the  head  of 
the  room,  a  group  of  men  surrounding  her  husband; 
with  one  exception,  almost  as  excited  as  he.  The  ex- 


MRS.     BALFAME  43 

ception  was  D wight  Rush  who  had  a  hand  on  one  of 
Bal fame's  shoulders  and  appeared  to  be  addressing  him 
in  a  low  tone.  Little  Maude  Battle  ran  forward  and 
grasped  her  arm. 

"  Oh,  dear  Mrs.  Balfame,"  she  gasped,  "  do  take  him 
home.  He  is  so  —  so  —  queer.  He  snatched  three 
girls  away  from  their  partners,  and  the  boys  are  so 
mad.  And  his  language  —  oh,  it  was  something  aw 
ful." 

The  women  and  girls  were  huddled  in  groups,  all 
but  Alys  Crumley,  who,  Mrs.  Balfame  vaguely 
realised,  was  sketching.  Their  eyes  were  fixed  on  the 
group  at  the  head  of  the  room,  where  Rush  was  now 
trying  to  edge  the  burly  swaying  figure  toward  the 
door. 

Mrs.  Balfame  walked  directly  up  to  her  flushed  and 
infuriated  spouse. 

:*  You  are  not  well,  David/'  she  said  peremptorily. 
"  In  all  the  years  of  our  married  life  never  have  you 
acted  like  this.  I  am  sure  that  you  are  getting  typhoid 
fever—" 

"To  hell  with  typhoid  fever!"  shouted  Mr.  Bal 
fame.  "  I'm  drunk,  that's  what.  And  I'll  be  drunker 
when  they  let  me  into  the  bar.  You  get  out  of  this." 

Mrs.  Balfame  turned  to  Dr.  Anna,  who  had  marched 
up  the  room  beside  her.  "  I  am  sure  it  is  fever,"  she 
said  with  decision,  and  the  loyal  Anna  nodded  sagely. 
"  You  know  that  liquor  never  affects  him.  We  must 
get  him  home." 

"  Huh!  "  jeered  Balfame,  "you  two  get  me  home! 
I'm  not  so  drunk  I  can't  see  the  joke  of  that.  The 
matter  with  you  is  you  think  I'm  disgracin'  you,  and 
you  want  to  go  on  bein'  the  high  cock-alorum  of  this 


44  MRS.     BALFAME 

bunch.  Well,  I'm  sick  of  it,  and  I'm  sick  of  bein' 
told  to  eat  out  when  you're  at  matinees  or  that  damned 
Woman's  Club.  Home's  the  place  for  women. 
Knittin's  all  right."  He  laughed  uproariously.  "  But 
stay  at  home  by  the  fire  and  knit  your  husband's  socks. 
Smoke  a  pipe  too,  if  you  like  it.  That's  what  my 
granny  did.  The  whole  lot  of  you  women  haven't 
got  one  good  man's  brain  between  you,  and  yet  you'd 
talk  the  head  off  the  President  of  the  United  States  — " 

He  was  about  to  launch  upon  his  opinion  of  Elsinore 
society  when  a  staccato  cough  interrupted  the  flow. 
Mrs.  Balfame  turned  away  with  a  gesture  of  superb 
disdain,  although  her  face  was  livid. 

:c  The  sex  jealousy  we  have  so  often  discussed!" 
Her  clear  tones  from  the  first  had  carried  all  over  the 
room.  "  He  must  be  taken  home."  She  looked  at 
Dwight  Rush  and  said  graciously :  "  I  am  sure  he  will 
go  with  you.  And  he  will  apologise  to  the  Club  when 
he  is  himself  again.  I  shall  go  back  to  our  game." 

She  held  her  head  very  high  as  she  swept  down  the 
long  room,  but  her  jaw  was  set,  her  nostrils  distended, 
a  narrow  strip  of  eye  was  fixed  and  glaring. 

An  unforeseen  situation  had  blown  to  flame  such 
fires  of  anger  as  existed  in  her  depths,  and  she  was 
unable  to  extinguish  them  as  quickly  as  she  would  have 
wished.  To  the  intense  surprise  of  the  bridge  women 
who  had  followed  her  out  of  the  card-room  and  in 
again,  she  sank  into  a  chair  and  burst  into  tears.  But 
she  managed  to  cry  quietly  into  her  handkerchief,  and 
in  a  few  moments  had  her  voice  under  control. 

"He  has  disgraced  me!"  she  exclaimed  bitterly. 
"  I  must  resign  from  the  Club." 

"  Well,  I  guess  not."     The  ladies  had  crowded  about 


MRS.     BALFAME  45 

her  sympathetically.  "  We'll  all  stand  up  for  you," 
cried  Mrs.  Battle.  "  The  men  will  give  him  a  good 
talking-to,  and  he'll  write  an  apology  to  the  Club  and 
that  will  end  it." 

These  friends,  old  and  more  recent,  were  embar 
rassed  in  their  genuine  sympathy,  for  no  one  had  ever 
seen  Mrs.  Balfame  in  tears  before.  Vaguely  they  re 
gretted  that,  extreme  as  was  the  provocation,  she  should 
have  descended  to  the  level  of  mere  womanhood.  It 
was  as  if  they  were  present  at  the  opening  of  a  new 
chapter  in  the  life  of  Mrs.  Balfame  of  Elsinore;  as, 
in  truth,  they  were. 

Mrs.  Balfame  blew  her  nose.  "  Pardon  me,"  she 
said.  "  I  never  believed  I  should  break  down  like  this 
—  but  —  but — "  once  more  she  set  her  teeth  and  her 
eyes  flashed.  "  I  have  a  violent  headache.  I  must  go 
home.  I  cannot  finish  the  game." 

"  I'll  take  you  home,"  Dr.  Anna  spoke.  "  Oh,  that 
beast!" 

The  other  women  kissed  Mrs.  Balfame,  straight 
ened  her  hat,  and  escorted  her  out  to  the  runabout 
which  Dr.  Anna  brought  to  the  rear  entrance  of  the 
clubhouse.  She  smiled  wearily  at  the  group,  touching 
her  brow  with  a  finger.  As  soon  as  the  little  car  had 
left  the  grounds  and  was  beyond  the  reach  of  peering 
eyes,  she  made  no  further  attempt  at  self-control,  but 
poured  forth  her  inmost  soul  to  the  one  person  she 
had  ever  fully  trusted.  She  told  the  doctor  all  the 
secret  horror  of  her  life,  her  hatred  and  loathing  of 
David  Balfame;  everything,  in  short,  but  her  deter 
mination  to  kill  him,  which  in  the  novel  excitement 
that  had  invaded  her  nervous  system,  she  forgot. 

Dr.  Anna,  who  had  heard  many  such  confessions, 


46  MRS.    BALFAME 

but  who  obstinately  had  hoped  that  her  friend's  case 
was  not  as  bad  as  it  appeared  superficially,  was  glad 
that  she  was  not  driving  a  horse;  humane  as  she  was, 
she  should  have  forgotten  herself  and  lashed  him  to 
relieve  her  own  feelings. 

"  You  must  get  a  divorce,"  she  said  through  her 
teeth.  "  You  really  must.  I  saw  Rush  looking  at 
you.  There  is  no  mistaking  that  expression  in  a  man's 
eyes.  You  must  —  you  must  divorce  that  brute." 

"I'll  not!"  Mrs.  'Bal fame's  composure  returned 
abruptly.  "And  please  forget  that  I  gave  way  like 
this  and  —  and  said  things."  She  wondered  what  she 
really  had  said.  "  I  know  I  need  not  ask  you  never  to 
mention  it.  But  divorce!  Oh,  no.  If  I  continue  to 
live  with  him  they'll  be  sorry  for  me  and  stand  by 
me,  but  if  I  divorced  him  —  well,  I'd  just  be  one  more 
divorced  woman  and  nothing  more.  Elsinore  isn't 
Newport.  Moreover,  they'd  feel  I'd  no  further  need 
of  their  sympathy.  In  time  they'd  let  me  pretty  well 
alone." 

"  I  don't  think  much  of  your  arguments,"  said  Dr. 
Anna.  "  You  could  marry  Rush  and  go  to  New 
York." 

"  But  you  know  I  mean  what  I  say.  And  don't 
worry,  Anna  dear."  She  bent  over  the  astonished 
doctor  and  gave  her  a  warm  kiss.  "  And  as  I'm  not 
demonstrative,  you  know  I  mean  that  too.  You  are 
not  to  worry  about  me.  I've  got  the  excuse  I  needed, 
and  I'm  going  to  buy  some  things  at  second  hand  and 
refurnish  one  of  the  old  bedrooms  and  live  in  it.  He 
can't  say  a  word  after  this,  and  he'll  be  humble  enough, 
for  the  men  will  make  him  apologise  to  the  Club.  I'll 
threaten  him  with  divorce,  and  that  alone  will  make 


MRS.     BALFAME  47 

him  behave  himself,  for  it  would  cost  him  a  good 
deal  more  to  pay  me  alimony  than  to  keep  the  old  house 
going—" 

"  That  isn't  an  argument  that  will  have  much  effect 
on  a  man,  usually  in  liquor.  But  women  are  queer 
cattle.  Divorce  is  a  great  and  beneficent  institution, 
and  here  you  elect  to  go  on  living  under  the  same  roof 
with  a  brute  —  Oh,  well,  it's  your  own  funeral.  Here 
we  are.  I've  got  to  speed  up  and  practise  medicine. 
Am  expecting  a  call  from  out  at  Houston's  any  min 
ute.  Baby.  Good  night." 


CHAPTER  VI 

.  BALFAME  let  herself  into  the  dark  house. 
Saturday  was  Frieda's  night  out. 

Contrary  to  her  economical  habit,  she  lighted  up  the 
lower  floor  recklessly,  and  opened  the  windows;  she 
felt  an  overwhelming  desire  for  light  and  air.  But  as 
she  wished  to  think  and  plan  with  her  accustomed 
clarity  she  went  at  once  to  the  pantry  in  search  of 
food;  the  blood  was  still  in  her  head. 

The  morrow  would  be  Sunday,  and  the  Saturday 
luncheon  was  always  composed  of  the  remains  of  the 
Friday  dinner.  On  Saturday  she  dined  at  the  Coun 
try  Club.  Therefore  Mrs.  Balfame  found  nothing 
with  which  to  accomplish  her  deliberate  scientific  pur 
pose  but  dry  bread  and  a  box  of  sardines.  She  was 
opening  this  delectable  when  the  front  door  bell  rang. 

Her  set  face  relaxed  into  a  frown,  but  she  went 
briskly  to  the  door.  The  poison  might  be  transpirable 
after  all,  and  her  alibi  must  be  perfect ;  she  had  changed 
her  mind  about  going  to  bed  with  a  headache,  and  at 
ten  o'clock,  when  she  knew  that  several  of  her  child 
less  friends  would  be  at  home,  she  purposed  to  call 
them  up  and  thank  them  sweetly  and  cheerfully. 

When  she  saw  Dwight  Rush  on  the  stoop,  however, 
she  almost  closed  the  door  in  his  scowling  face. 

"  Let  me  in !  "  he  commanded. 

"  No !  "  She  spoke  with  sweet  severity.  "  I  shall 
not.  After  such  a  scene?  I  must  be  more  careful 

48 


MRS.     BALFAME  49 

than  ever.  Go  right  away.  I,  at  least,  shall  continue 
to  be  above  reproach." 

"  Oh !  "  He  swallowed  the  natural  expression  of 
masculine  irritation.  "  If  you  won't  let  me  in  I'll  say 
what  I've  got  to  say  right  here.  Will  you  divorce  that 
brute  and  marry  me?  I  can  get  you  a  divorce  on  half 
a  dozen  grounds." 

"  I'll  have  no  divorce,  now  or  ever."  Mrs.  Balfame 
of  Elsinore  spoke  with  haughty  finality.  "  I  abom 
inate  the  word."  Then  she  added  graciously :  "  But 
don't  think  I  am  unappreciative  of  your  kindness. 
Now  you  must  go  away.  The  Gifnings  live  on  the 
corner,  and  they  always  come  home  early." 

"  A  good  many  have  left,  including  Balfame.  He 
spoilt  the  evening."  Rush  stared  at  her  and  ground 
his  teeth.  "  By  God !  I  wish  the  old  duelling  days 
were  back  again.  I'd  call  him  out.  If  you  say  the 
word  I'll  pick  a  quarrel  with  him  anyhow.  He  carries 
a  gun,  and  there  isn't  a  jury  in  Brabant  County  that 
wouldn't  acquit  me  on  the  plea  of  self-defence.  My 
conscience  would  trouble  me  no  more  than  if  I  had  shot 
a  mad  dog." 

Mrs.  Balfame  gave  a  little  gasp,  which  he  mistook 
for  horror.  But  temptation  had  assailed  her.  Why 
not?  Her  own  opportunity  might  be  long  in  coming. 
It  would  be  like  Dave  Balfame  to  go  away  and  stay  for 
a  month.  But  the  temptation  passed  swiftly.  Hu 
man  nature  is  too  complex  for  any  mere  mortal  to 
reduce  to  the  rule  of  three.  While  she  could  dispose 
of  her  husband  without  a  qualm,  her  conscience  re 
volted  from  turning  an  upright  citizen  like  Dwight 
Rush  into  a  murderer. 

She  closed  the  door  abruptly,  knowing  that  no  mere 


50  MRS.     BALFAME 

verbal  refusal  to  accept  such  an  offer  would  be  ade 
quate,  and  he  went  slowly  down  the  steps.  But  in  a 
moment  he  ran  back  and  a  few  feet  down  the  veranda, 
thrusting  his  head  through  one  of  the  open  windows. 

"  Just  one  minute !  " 

She  was  passing  the  parlour  door  and  paused. 

"  Promise  me  that  if  you  are  in  trouble  you  will 
send  for  me.  For  no  one  else ;  no  other  man,  that  is, 
but  me.  You  owe  me  that  much." 

"  Yes,  I  promise."  She  spoke  more  softly  and 
smiled. 

"  And  close  these  windows.  It  is  not  safe  to  leave 
veranda  windows  open  at  this  hour." 

"  I  intended  to  close  them  before  going  up  stairs. 
But  —  perhaps  you  will  understand  —  the  house  when 
I  came  in  seemed  to  reek  with  tobacco  and  liquor  — 
with  him ! " 

His  reply  was  inarticulate,  but  he  pulled  down  the 
windows  violently,  and  she  locked  them,  smiling  once 
more  before  she  turned  out  the  light. 

She  returned  to  the  dining-room,  thinking  upon  food 
with  distaste,  but  determined  to  eat  until  her  head  felt 
normal.  She  had  no  intention  of  speaking  to  her  hus 
band  should  he  return,  for  she  purposed  to  sleep  on  a 
sofa  in  the  sewing-room  and  lock  the  door,  but  tones 
and  brain  must  be  lightly  poised  when  she  telephoned 
to  her  friends. 

The  telephone  bell  rang.  Once  more  she  frowned, 
but  answered  the  summons  as  promptly  as  she  had 
opened  the  front  door.  To  her  amazement  she  heard 
her  husband's  voice. 

"  Say,"  it  said  thickly,  "  I'm  sorry.  Promise  not  to 
take  another  drink  for  a  month.  Sorry,  too,  I've  got 


MRS.     BALFAME  51 

to  go  to  the  house  for  a  few  minutes.  Didn't  intend  to 
go  home  to-night  —  thought  I'd  give  you  time  to  get 
over  bein'  as  mad  as  I  guess  you've  got  a  right  to  be. 
But  I  got  to  go  to  Albany  —  politics  —  got  to  go  to 
night  —  must  go  home  and  get  my  grip.  You  —  you 

—  wouldn't  pack  it,  would  you  ?     Then  I  needn't  stay 
so  long.     Only  got  to  sort  some  papers  myself." 

Mrs.  Balfame  replied  in  the  old  wifely  tones  that  so 
often  had  caused  him  to  grit  his  teeth :  "  I  never  hold 
a  man  in  your  condition  responsible  for  anything.  Of 
course  I'll  pack  your  suitcase.  What  is  more,  I'll  have 
a  glass  of  lemonade  ready,  with  aromatic  spirits  of 
ammonia  in  it.  You  must  sober  up  before  you  start  on 
a  journey." 

"  That's  the  ticket.  You're  a  corker !  Put  in  a  bro 
mide,  too.  I'm  at  Sam's,  and  I  guess  I'll  walk  over  — 
need  the  air.  You  just  go  on  bein'  sweet  and  I'll  bring 
you  something  pretty  from  Albany." 

"  I  want  one  of  those  new  chiffon- velvet  bags,  and 
you  will  please  get  it  in  New  York,"  she  said  prac 
tically.  "  I'll  write  an  exact  description  of  it  and  put 
it  in  the  suitcase." 

"  All  right.  Go  ahead."  His  accents  breathed  pro 
found  relief,  and  although  her  brain  was  working  at 
lightning  speed,  and  her  eyes  were  but  a  pale  bar  of 
light,  she  curled  her  lip  scornfully  at  the  childishness 
of  man,  as  she  hung  up  the  receiver. 

She  made  the  glass  of  lemonade,  added  the  usual 
allowance  of  aromatic  spirits  of  ammonia  and  bromide 

—  a  bottle  of  each  was  kept  in  the  sideboard  ready  for 
instant  use  —  then  ran  upstairs  and  returned  with  the 
colourless  liquid  she  had  purloined  from  Dr.  Anna's 
cupboard. 


52  MRS.    BALFAME 

Her  scientific  friend  had  remarked  that  one  drop 
would  suffice,  but  being  a  mere  female  herself  she 
doubled  the  dose  to  make  sure;  and  then  set  the  glass 
conspicuously  in  the  middle  of  the  table.  The  half 
opened  can  of  sardines  and  the  plate  of  bread  were 
quite  forgotten,  and  once  more  she  ran  upstairs,  this 
time  to  pack  his  useless  clothes. 

She  performed  this  wifely  office  with  efficiency,  for 
getting  nothing,  not  even  the  hair  tonic  he  was  ad 
ministering  to  a  spreading  bald  spot,  a  bottle  of  di 
gestive  tablets,  a  pair  of  the  brown  kid  gloves  he  af 
fected  when  dressed  up,  and  a  volume  of  detective 
fiction.  Then  she  wrote  a  minute  description  of  the 
newest  fashion  in  hand  bags  and  pinned  it  to  his  dinner 
jacket.  The  suitcase  was  an  alibi  in  itself. 

When  she  had  packed  it  and  strapped  it  and  carried 
it  down  to  the  dining-room,  returned  to  her  room  and 
locked  the  door,  she  realised  that  she  had  prolonged 
these  commonplace  duties  in  behalf  of  her  nerves. 
Those  well-disciplined  rebels  of  the  human  system  were 
by  no  means  driven  to  cover,  and  this  annoyed  her  ex 
cessively. 

She  had  no  fear  of  not  rising  to  precisely  the  proper 
pitch  when  she  heard  her  husband  fall  dead  in  the 
dining-room,  for  she  always  had  risen  automatically  to 
every  occasion  for  which  she  was  in  any  measure  pre 
pared,  and  to  many  that  had  caught  her  unaware.  It 
was  the  ordeal  of  waiting  for  the  climax  that  made  her 
nerves  jeer  at  her  will,  and  she  found  that  a  series  of 
pictures  was  marching  monotonously  through  her 
mind,  again,  and  again,  and  yet  again:  with  that  in 
terior  vision  she  saw  her  husband  walk  unsteadily  up 
the  street,  swing  open  the  gate,  slam  it  defiantly,  insert 


MRS.     BALFAME  53 

his  latch-key;  she  saw  his  eye  drawn  to  the  light  in 
the  dining-room  at  the  end  of  the  dark  hall,  saw  him 
drink  the  lemonade,  drop  to  the  floor  with  a  fall  that 
shook  the  house;  she  saw  herself  running  down,  calling 
out  his  name,  shattering  the  glass  on  the  floor,  then  run 
ning  distractedly  across  the  street  to  the  Gi filings' — 
and  again  and  still  again. 

She  had  been  pacing  the  room.  It  occurred  to  her 
that  she  could  vary  the  monotony  by  watching  for  him, 
and  she  put  out  her  light  and  drew  aside  the  sash  cur 
tain.  In  a  moment  she  caught  her  breath. 

Her  room  was  on  a  corner  of  the  house  and  com 
manded  not  only  the  front  walk  leading  down  to  El- 
sinore  Avenue,  but  the  grounds  on  the  left.  In  these 
grounds  was  a  large  grove  of  ancient  maples,  where, 
dressed  in  white,  she  passed  many  pleasant  hours  in 
summer  with  a  book  or  her  friends.  The  trees,  with 
their  low  thick  branches  still  laden  with  leaves,  cast  a 
heavy  shade,  but  her  gaze,  moving  unconsciously  from 
the  empty  street,  suddenly  saw  a  black  and  moving 
shadow  in  that  black  and  almost  solid  mass  of  shadows. 

She  watched  intently.  A  figure  undoubtedly  was 
moving  from  tree  to  tree,  as  if  selecting  a  point  of 
vantage,  or  restless  from  one  of  several  conceivable 
causes. 

Could  it  be  her  husband,  summoning  his  courage  to 
enter  and  face  her  ?  She  had  known  him  in  that  mood. 
But  she  dismissed  the  suggestion.  He  had  inferred 
from  her  voice  that  she  was  both  weary  and  placated, 
and  he  was  far  more  likely  to  come  swaggering  down 
the  avenue  singing  one  of  his  favourite  tunes ;  he  fan 
cied  his  voice. 

Frieda  never  returned  before  midnight,  and  then, 


54  MRS.     BALFAME 

although  she  entered  by  the  rear  hall  door  and  stole 
quietly  up  the  back  stairs,  she  would  be  quite  without 
shame  if  confronted. 

Therefore,  it  must  be  a  burglar. 

There  could  not  have  been  a  more  welcome  distrac 
tion.  Mrs.  Balfame  was  cool  and  alert  at  once.  As 
an  antidote  to  rebellious  nerves  awaiting  the  consum 
mation  of  an  unlawful  act,  a  burglar  may  be  recom 
mended  to  the  most  amateurish  assassin. 

Mrs.  Balfame  put  on  her  heavy  automobile  coat, 
wrapped  her  head  and  face  in  a  dark  veil,  transferred 
her  pistol  from  the  table  drawer  to  a  pocket,  and  went 
softly  down  the  stairs.  She  left  the  house  by  the 
kitchen  door,  and,  after  edging  round  the  corner  stood 
still  until  her  eyes  grew  accustomed  to  the  dark.  Then, 
once,  more,  she  saw  that  moving  shadow. 

She  dared  not  risk  crossing  the  lawn  directly  from 
the  house  to  the  grove,  but  made  a  long  detour  at  the 
back,  keeping  on  the  grass,  however,  that  her  footsteps 
should  make  no  noise. 

A  moment  or  two  and  she  was  within  the  grove. 
She  saw  the  shadow  detach  itself  again,  but  it  was 
impossible  to  determine  its  size  or  sex,  although  she 
inferred  from  its  hard  laboured  breathing  that  the 
potential  thief  was  a  man. 

He  appeared  to  be  making  craftily  for  the  house,  no 
doubt  with  the  intention  of  opening  one  of  the  lower 
windows ;  and  she  stalked  him  with  a  newly  awakened 
instinct,  her  nostrils  expanding.  The  original  resolve 
to  kill  her  husband  had  induced  no  excitement  at  all; 
even  Dwight  Rush's  love-making  had  thrilled  her  but 
faintly ;  but  this  adventure  in  the  night,  stalking  a 
house-breaker,  presently  to  confront  him  with  the  com- 


MRS.     BALFAME  55 

mand  to  raise  his  hands,  cast  a  momentary  light  upon 
the  emotional  moments  experienced  by  the  highly  or 
ganised. 

Suddenly  she  heard  her  husband's  voice.  He  was 
approaching  Elsinore  Avenue  from  one  of  the  nearby 
streets,  and  he  was  singing,  with  physiological  inter 
ruptions,  "  Tipperary,"  a  song  he  had  cultivated  of 
late  to  annoy  his  political  rival,  an  American  of 
German  birth  and  terrific  German  sympathies.  He 
was  walking  quickly,  as  top-heavy  men  sometimes 
will. 

She  drew  back  and  crouched.  To  make  her  pres 
ence  known  would  be  to  turn  over  the  burglar  to  her 
husband  and  detain  the  essential  victim  from  the  din 
ing-room  table. 

She  saw  the  shadow  dodge  behind  a  tree.  Balfame 
appeared  almost  abruptly  in  the  light  shed  by  the  street 
lamp  in  front  of  his  gate;  and  then  it  seemed  to  her 
that  she  had  held  her  breath  for  a  lifetime  before  her 
ears  were  stunned  by  a  sharp  report,  her  eyes  blinked 
at  a  spurt  of  fire,  before  she  heard  David  Balfame  give 
a  curious  sound,  half  moan,  half  hiccough,  saw  him 
clutch  at  the  gate,  then  sink  to  the  ground. 

She  was  hardly  conscious  of  running,  far  more  con 
scious  that  some  one  else  was  running  —  through  the 
orchard  and  toward  the  back  fence. 

Hours  later,  it  seemed  to  her,  she  was  in  the  kitchen 
closing  the  door  behind  her.  Something  curious  had 
happened  in  her  brain,  so  trained  to  orderly  routine 
that  it  seldom  prompted  an  erratic  course. 

She  should  have  run  at  once  to  her  husband,  and 
here  she  was  inside  the  house,  and  once  more  listening1 
intently.  It  was  the  fancied  sound  that  swung  her 


56  MRS.     BALFAME 

consciousness  back  to  its  balance.  She  went  to  the 
front  of  the  back  stairs  and  called  sharply : 

"Frieda!" 

There  was  no  answer. 

"  Frieda.  "  she  called  again.  "  Did  you  hear  any 
thing?  I  thought  I  heard  some  one  trying  to  open  the 
back  door." 

Again  there  was  no  answer. 

Then,  her  lip  curling  at  the  idea  of  Frieda's  return 
on  Saturday  night  at  eight  o'clock,  she  went  rapidly 
into  the  dining-room,  carried  the  glass  containing  the 
lemonade  into  the  kitchen,  rinsed  it  thoroughly,  and 
put  it  away. 

It  was  not  until  she  reached  her  room  that  it  oc 
curred  to  her  that  she  should  have  ascertained  whether 
or  not  the  key  was  on  the  inside  of  the  rear  hall  door. 

But  this  was  merely  a  flitting  thought;  there  were 
loud  and  excited  voices  down  by  the  gate.  In  an  in 
stant  she  had  hung  up  her  automobile  cloak  and  veil, 
changed  her  dress  for  a  wrapper,  let  down  her  hair  and 
thrown  open  the  window. 

"  What  is  the  matter?  "  Her  tone  was  peremptory 
but  apprehensive. 

"  Matter  enough ! "  John  Gifning's  voice  was 
rough  and  broken.  "  Don't  come  out  here.  Mean  to 
say  you  didn't  hear  a  shot?  " 

Two  or  three  men  were  running  about  nearer  the 
house.  One  paused  under  her  window,  and  looked 
up,  waving  his  hand  vaguely. 

"Shot?  Shot?  I  heard  —  so  many  tires  explode 
5—  What  do  you  mean?  ,What  is  it ?  —  Who  — " 

"  Here's  the  coroner !  "  cried  one  of  the  group  at  the 
gate. 


MRS.     BALFAME  57 

"Coroner?" 

She  ran  down  stairs,  threw  open  the  front  door  and 
went  as  swiftly  toward  the  gate,  her  hair  streaming  be 
hind  her. 

"  Who  is  it?  "  she  demanded. 

"Now  —  now."  Mr.  Gifning  intercepted  her  and 
clasped  her  shoulder  firmly.  "  You  don't  want  to  go 
down  there  —  and  don't  take  on — " 

She  drew  herself  up  haughtily.  "  I  am  not  an  hys 
terical  woman.  Who  has  been  shot  down  at  my 
gate?" 

"  Well,"  blurted  out  Gifning.  "  I  guess  you'll  have 
to  know.  It's  poor  old  Dave." 

Mrs.  Balfame  drew  herself  still  higher  and  stood 
quite  rigid  for  a  moment;  then  the  coroner,  one  of  her 
husband's  friends,  came  up  the  path  and  said  in  a  low 
tone  to  Gifning,  "  Take  her  upstairs.  We're  goin'  to 
bring  him  in.  He's  gone,  for  a  fact." 

Mr.  Gifning  pushed  her  gently  along  the  path,  as 
the  others  lifted  the  limp  body  and  tramped  slowly  be 
hind.  "  You  go  up  and  have  a  good  cry,"  he  said. 
"  I'll  'phone  for  the  Cummacks.  I  guess  it  was  bound 
to  come.  There's  been  hot  times  in  Dobton  lately  — " 

"  Do  you  mean  that  he  was  deliberately  murdered  ?  " 

"  Looks  like  it,  seeing  that  he  didn't  do  it  himself. 
The  damned  hound  was  skulking  in  the  grove.  Of 
course  he's  made  off,  but  we'll  get  him  all  right." 

Mrs.  Balfame  walked  slowly  up  the  stair,  her  head 
bowed,  while  the  heavy  inert  mass  so  lately  abhorrent 
to  his  wife  and  several  politicians  was  laid  on  the  sofa 
in  the  parlour  whose  evolutions  had  annoyed  him. 

Mr.  Gifning  telephoned  to  the  dead  man's  brother- 
in-law,  then  for  the  police  and  the  undertaker. 


58  MRS.     BALFAME 

Mrs.  Balfame  sat  down  and  awaited  the  inevitable 
bombardment  of  her  privacy  by  her  more  intimate 
friends.  Already  shriller  voices  were  mingling  with 
the  heavier  tones  down  on  the  lawn  and  out  in  the 
avenue.  The  news  seemed  to  have  been  flashed  from 
one  end  of  Elsinore  to  the  other. 


CHAPTER  VII 

MRS.  BALFAME  sat  with  Mrs.  Battle,  Mrs.  Gif- 
ning,  Mrs.  Frew,  her  sister-in-law,  Mrs.  Cum- 
mack,  and  several  of  her  other  friends  in  her  quiet 
bed-chamber.  It  was  an  hour  after  the  death  of  David 
Balfame  and  she  had,  for  the  seventh  time,  told  the 
story  of  packing  her  husband's  suit  case,  carrying  it 
down  stairs,  returning  to  her  room  to  undress,  hearing 
the  commotion  down  by  the  gate.  Yes,  she  had  heard 
a  report,  but  Elsinore  Avenue  —  automobiles  —  ex 
ploding  tires  —  naturally,  it  had  meant  nothing  to  her 
at  the  moment.  No,  he  did  not  cry  out  —  or  if  he 
did  —  her  window  was  closed ;  it  was  the  side  window 
she  left  open  at  night. 

She  had  accepted  a  bottle  of  smelling  salts  from  Mrs. 
Battle,  but  sat  quite  erect,  looking  stunned  and  frozen. 
Her  voice  was  expressionless,  wearily  reiterating  a  few 
facts  to  gratify  the  curiosity  of  these  well-meaning 
friends,  as  wearily  listening  to  Lottie  Gifning's  reitera 
tion  of  her  own  story :  As  the  night  was  warmer  than 
usual  she  and  her  husband  and  the  two  friends  that 
had  motored  in  with  them  had  sat  on  the  porch  for 
awhile;  they  had  heard  "Dave"  come  singing  down 
Dawbarn  Street;  two  or  three  minutes  later  the  shot. 
Of  course  the  men  ran  over  at  once,  but  for  at  least  ten 
minutes  she  was  too  frightened  to  move.  One  of  the 
men  ran  for  the  coroner;  if  "  poor  Dave  "  wasn't  dead 

59 


60  MRS.    BALFAME 

they  wanted  to  take  him  at  once  where  he  would  be 
comfortable. 

Mrs.  Balfame's  demeanour  was  all  these  solicitous 
friends  could  have  wished;  although  they  enjoyed  tears 
and  emotional  scenes  as  much  as  any  women,  they  were 
gratified  to  be  reassured  that  their  Mrs.  Balfame  was 
not  as  other  women ;  they  still  regretted  her  breakdown 
at  the  Club,  although  resentfully  conscious  of  loving 
her  the  more.  And  if  they  wanted  tears,  here  was 
Polly  Cummack  shedding  them  in  abundance  for  the 
brother  she  now  reproached  herself  for  having  utterly 
despised. 

Below  there  was  a  subdued  hum  of  voices,  within 
and  without.  The  police  had  come  tearing  up  in  an 
automobile  and  ordered  the  amateur  detectives  out  of 
the  grounds;  their  angry  voices  had  been  heard  de 
manding  how  the  qualified  fools  expected  the  original 
footsteps  to  be  detected  after  such  a  piece  of  idiocy/ 

Mrs.  Balfame  had  shaken  her  head  sadly.  "  They'll 
find  nothing/'  she  said.  "If  only  I  had  known,  I 
could  have  called  down  to  them  to  keep  out  of  the 
yard." 

"  Now,  who  do  you  suppose  that  is  ?  "  Mrs.  Battle, 
who  was  short  and  stout  and  corseted  to  her  knees, 
toddled  over  to  the  window  and  leaned  out  as  two 
automobiles  raced  each  other  down  the  avenue.  They 
stopped  at  the  gate,  and  in  a  moment  Mrs.  Battle  an 
nounced  :  "  The  New  York  newspaper  men !  " 

"Already?"  Mrs.  Balfame  glanced  at  the  clock 
and  stifled  a  yawn.  "  Why,  it's  hardly  an  hour  — " 

"  Oh,  a  year  or  so  from  now  they'll  be  coming  over 
in  bi-planes.  Well,  if  our  poor  old  boobs  of  police 
don't  unearth  the  murderer,  they  will.  They  are  the 


MRS.     BALFAME  61 

prize  sleuths.  They'll  find  a  scent,  or  spin  one  out  of 
their  brains  as  a  spider  spins  his  web  out  of  his  little 
tummy — " 

Mrs.  Cummack  interrupted :  "  Sam  is  sure  it  is  Old 
Dutch.  He's  gone  with  the  constable  to  Dobton." 

Dobton,  the  county  seat,  and  the  centre  of  the  po 
litical  activities  of  East  Brabant,  intimately  connected 
with  the  various  "  towns  "  by  trolley  and  telephone, 
embraced  the  domicile  of  Mr.  Konrad  Kraus,  amiably 
known  as  "  Old  Dutch."  His  home  was  in  the  rear  of 
his  flourishing  saloon,  which  was  the  headquarters  of 
the  county  Republicans.  David  Balfame  had  patron 
ised  —  rumour  said  financed  —  the  saloon  of  an  Amer 
ican  sired  by  Erin. 

Another  automobile  dashed  up.  "  Sam,  I  think ; 
yes,  it  is,"  cried  Mrs.  Battle. 

A  few  moments  later  Mr.  Cummack  appeared  upon 
the  threshold. 

"  Nothin'  doinV  he  said  gruffly.  "  Old  Dutch's  got 
a  perfect  alibi.  Been  behind  the  bar  since  six  o'clock. 
It's  up  to  us  now  to  find  out  if  he  hired  a  gunman;  and 
we're  on  the  trail  of  others  too.  Poor  Dave  had  his 
enemies  all  right." 

He  paused  and  looked  tentatively  at  his  weary  but 
heroic  sister-in-law.  His  own  face  was  haggard,  and 
the  walrus  moustache  he  had  brought  out  of  the  North 
west  was  covered  not  only  with  dust  but  with  little 
moist  islands  made  by  furtive  tears.  With  that  ex 
quisite  sympathy  and  comprehension  that  men  have 
for  the  failings  of  other  men,  which  far  surpasseth 
that  of  woman,  he  had  loved  his  imperfect  friend,  but 
he  had  a  profound  admiration  for  his  sister-in-law, 
whom  he  neither  loved  nor  pretended  to  understand. 


62  MRS.     BALFAME 

He  knew  her  surfaces,  however,  as  well  as  any  one, 
and  would  have  been  deeply  disappointed  if  she  had 
carried  herself  in  this  trying  hour  contrary  to  her 
usual  high  standard  of  conduct.  Enid  Balfame,  in 
deed,  was  almost  a  legend  in  Elsinore,  and  into  this 
legend  she  could  retire  as  into  a  fortress,  practically 
impregnable. 

"  Say,  Enid/'  he  said  hesitatingly.  "  These  re 
porters  —  the  New  York  chaps  —  the  local  men 
wouldn't  dare  ask  —  want  an  interview.  What  do 
you  say  ?  " 

Mrs.  Balfame  merely  turned  her  haughty  head  and 
regarded  him  with  icy  disdain.  "  Are  they  crazy  ? 
Or  you?" 

"  Well,  not  the  way  they  look  at  it.  You  see,  it's  up 
to  them  to  fill  a  column  or  two  every  morning,  and 
there's  nothing  touches  a  new  crime  with  a  mystery. 
So  far,  they  haven't  got  much  out  of  this  but  the  bare 
fact  that  poor  Dave  was  shot  down  at  his  own  gate, 
presumably  by  some  one  hid  in  the  grove.  An  inter 
view  with  the  bereaved  widow  would  make  what  they 
call  a  corking  story." 

"  Tell  them  to  go  away  at  once."  She  leaned  back 
against  her  chair  and  closed  her  eyes.  Mrs.  Gifning 
flew  to  hold  the  salts  to  her  nose. 

"Better  see  them,"  persisted  Mr.  Cummack. 
"  They'll  haunt  the  house  till  you  do.  They're  crazy 
about  this  case  —  hasn't  been  a  decent  murder  for 
months,  nothin'  much  doin'  in  any  line,  and  everybody 
sick  of  the  war.  The  Germans  take  a  trench  in  the 
morning  papers  and  lose  it  in  the  evening — " 

"  Sam  Cummack !     How  dare  you  joke  at  a  time 


MRS.     BALFAME  63 

like  this?"  His  wife  ran  forward  and  attempted  to 
push  him  out  of  the  room,  and  the  other  ladies  had 
risen  and  faced  him  with  manifest  indignation. 

Suddenly  Mrs.  Cummack  put  her  arms  about  him 
and  patted  the  top  of  his  head.  He  had  burst  into 
tears  and  was  rubbing  his  eyes  on  his  sleeve.  "  Poor 
old  Dave !  "  he  sobbed.  "  I'm  all  in.  But  I'll  find  that 
low-down  cur  who  killed  him,  cut  him  off  in  his  prime, 
if  it  takes  the  last  cent  I've  got." 

Mrs.  Balfame  rose  and  crossed  to  his  side.  She  put 
her  hand  ort  his  shoulder.  "  I  never  should  have  sus 
pected  that  you  had  such  depth  of  feeling,  Sam,"  she 
said  softly,  "I  am  sure  that  the  cowardly  murderer 
will  be  caught  and  that  yours  will  be  the  glory.  Send 
those  inconsiderate  reporters  away." 

Mr.  Cummack  shook  his  head.  "  As  well  talk  of 
calling  off  the  police.  They'll  be  round  here  day  and 
night  till  the  man  is  in  Dobton  jail  —  longer,  for  they 
know  the  public  will  want  an  interview  with  the  widow. 
Better  see  them,  Enid." 

"  I  shall  not."  Mrs.  Balfame  put  her  hand  to  her 
head  and  reeled.  "  Oh,  I  am  so  tired !  So  tired ! 
What  a  day.  Oh,  how  I  wish  Anna  were  here." 

Three  of  the  women  caught  her  and  led  her  to  her 
chair.  "  Anna !  "  she  reiterated.  "  I  must  have  some 
thing  to  make  me  sleep  — " 

"Til  call  her  up!"  volunteered  Mrs.  Gifning.  "I 
do  hope  she  is  at  home  — " 

"  She  was  to  go  out  to  the  Houston  farm,"  inter 
rupted  Mrs.  Cummack.  She  stopped  at  our  house  on 
the  way  out  —  Sammy  has  bronchitis  — " ;  and  Mrs. 
Gifning,  who  was  as  nervous  as  the  widow  should  have 


64  MRS.    BALFAME 

been,  ran  down  to  the  telephone,  elated  at  being  the 
one  chosen  to  horrify  poor  Dr.  Anna  while  engaged  in 
the  everlasting  battle  for  life. 

"  I'll  stay  with  Enid  till  Anna  comes,"  volunteered 
Mrs.  Cummack.  "  I  guess  she'd  better  be  quiet.  One 
of  you  might  make  coffee  for  those  that  are  going  to 
sit  up — " 

"  Frieda's  doin'  that,"  said  Mr.  Cummack. 
"  They're  all  in  the  dining-room  — " 

Mrs.  Balfame  had  left  the  shelter  of  Mrs.  Cum- 
mack's  arm  and  was  sitting  very  straight.  "  Frieda? 
This  is  her  night  out  — " 

"  She  was  in  bed  with  a  toothache,  but  I  routed  her 
out.  Well,  I'll  put  the  men  off  till  to-morrow,  but 
better  make  up  your  mind  to  see  them  then." 

He  left  the  room  and  when  Mrs.  Balfame  was  alone 
with  her  sister-in-law,  whom  she  had  never  admitted 
to  the  sacred  inner  circle,  but  who  was  a  kind  forgiving 
soul,  she  smiled  affectionately.  "  Don't  be  afraid  that 
I  shall  break  down,"  she  said.  "  But  those  women  had 
got  on  my  nerves.  It  is  too  kind  of  you  to  have  dis 
missed  them,  and  to  stay  with  me  yourself  till  Anna 
comes.  It  has  all  been  so  terrible  —  and  coming  so 
soon  after  what  happened  at  the  Club.  Thank  heaven 
I  did  not  permit  myself  to  speak  severely  to  him,  and 
even  when  he  telephoned  for  his  suit  case  I  was  not 
cross  —  I  never  would  hold  a  man  who  had  been  drink 
ing  to  strict  account  — " 

"  Don't  you  worry  your  head.  He  was  my  brother, 
but  I  guess  I  know  what  a  trial  he  must  have  been. 
And  if  he  hadn't  been  my  brother  I  guess  I'd  say  we 
wouldn't  have  blamed  you  much  if  you  had  given  him 
a  dose  of  lead  yourself  — " 


MRS.     BALFAME  65 

Mrs.  Balfame  raised  her  amazed  eyes.  But  in  a 
moment  the  weary  ghost  of  a  smile  flitted  over  her  firm 
mouth,  and  she  asked  almost  lightly :  "  Do  you  then 
believe  in  removing  offensive  husbands  ?  " 

"  Well  —  of  course  I'd  never  have  that  much  cour 
age  myself  if  Sam  wasn't  any  better  than  he  should 
be  —  he's  pretty  decent  as  men  go  —  but  I  know  a 
few  husbands  right  here  in  Elsinore —  well,  if  their 
wives  gave  them  prussic  acid  or  hot  lead  they  wouldn't 
lose  my  friendship,  and  I  guess  any  jury  would  let 
them  off." 

"  I  guess  you're  right."  Mrs.  Balfame  was  begin 
ning  to  undress.  "  I  think  I'll  get  into  bed  —  But  it 
requires  a  lot  of  nerve.  And  the  risk  is  pretty  great, 
you  know.  Anna  once  told  me  of  an  untraceable  and 
tasteless  poison  she  had  — " 

"  Oh,  Lord !  "  Mrs.  Cummack  may  have  been  too 
hopelessly  without  style  and  ambition  to  be  one  of  the 
arc  lights  of  the  Elsinore  smart  set,  but  she  possessed  a 
sense  of  humour,  and  for  the  moment  forgot  the  abrupt 
taking  off  of  her  brother.  "  Don't  let  that  get  round. 
The  poison  wouldn't  be  safe  for  an  hour  —  nor  a  few 
husbands.  I  think  I'll  warn  Anna  anyhow  —  I'm  not 
sure  I  can  keep  it." 

The  door  opened  softly  and  Mrs.  Gifning's  fluffy 
blonde  head  appeared.  "  I  couldn't  get  Anna  her 
self,"  she  whispered.  "  The  baby  hasn't  come.  But 
Mr.  Houston  said  he'd  tell  her  as  soon  as  it  was  over, 
and  let  her  go.  He  was  terribly  shocked,  and  sent  you 
his  love." 

"Thanks,  dear,"  murmured  Mrs.  Balfame.  "I'll 
try  and  sleep  awhile,  and  Polly  has  promised  to  sit  with 
me  till  Anna  comes.  Good-night." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THERE  was  a  thin  cry  of  life  in  the  nursery  of 
the  Houston  farm  house.  The  mother  slept 
and  the  new  born  was  in  competent  hands.  Mr. 
Houston,  a  farmer  more  prosperous  and  enterprising 
than  his  somewhat  weedy  appearance  prefigured,  beck 
oned  Dr.  Anna  into  the  dining-room,  where  a  sleepy 
but  interested  "  hired  girl  "  had  brought  hot  coffee  and 
sandwiches. 

The  battle  had  lasted  little  over  three  hours,  but 
every  moment  had  been  fraught  with  anxiety  for  the 
doctor  and  the  husband.  Mrs.  Houston's  heart  had 
revealed  an  unsuspected  weakness  and  the  baby  had 
not  only  neglected  to  head  itself  towards  the  gates  of 
life  as  all  proper  little  marathons  should,  but  had  ex 
hibited  a  state  of  suspended  animation  for  at  least 
twenty  minutes  after  its  arrival  at  the  goal. 

Dr.  Anna  dropped  into  a  chair  beside  the  table  and 
covered  her  face  with  her  hand. 

"  I'm  all  in,  I  guess,"  she  murmured,  and  the  farmer 
put  down  the  coffee  pot  and  ran  for  the  demijohn. 

"  You  drink  this,"  he  said  peremptorily.  His  own 
hand  was  shaking,  but  he  made  no  verbal  attempt  to 
release  his  strangled  emotions  until  both  he  and  the 
doctor  had  drunk  of  coffee  as  well  as  whiskey.  Then, 
when  half  way  through  a  thick  sandwich  made  of  slabs 
of  bread  and  beef,  he  began  to  thank  the  doctor  in 
coherently. 

"  You  are  just  it,"  he  sputtered.  "  Just  about  it. 

66 


MRS.     BALFAME  67 

And  your  poor  back  must  be  broke.  You  doctors  do 
beat  me,  particularly  you  women  doctors.  I'll  never 
say  nothin'  against  women  doctors  again,  though  I'll 
tell  you  now  that  although  poor  little  Aggie  was  dead 
set  on  you,  I  opposed  it  for  awhile  — " 

Dr.  Anna  was  sitting  up  and  smiling.  She  waved 
his  apologies  and  protestations  aside.  "  I  can't  think 
what  came  over  me  to  collapse  like  that.  Once  or 
twice  lately  I  have  thought  I  might  be  getting  some 
thing.  I'll  have  my  blood  taken  to-morrow.  Now, 
I'll  go  home  and  get  to  bed  quick,  although  that  coffee 
has  made  me  feel  as  fine  as  a  fiddle." 

".Well,  I  needed  it  too,  and  for  more  reasons  than 
you.  Say  — "  Mr.  Houston  had  risen  and  was  pull 
ing  nervously  at  his  short  and  bosky  beard.  "  I  got  a 
'phone  from  Mrs.  Gifning  a  while  ago.  You're 
wanted  at  the  Bal fames  —  bad." 

Dr.  Anna  sprang  to  her  feet,  her  full  cheeks  pale 
again.  "  Enid!  What  has  happened  to  her?  " 

"  Oh,  she's  all  right,  I  guess.     It's  Dave—" 

"Oh,  another  gastric  attack?" 

"Worse  and  more  of  it.  He  was  shot  —  two  or 
three  hours  ago,  I  guess.  I  didn't  ask  the  time  —  was 
in  too  big  a  hurry  to  get  back  to  Aggies-rat  his  own 
gate,  though,  I  think  she  said." 

"Who  did  it?" 

"  Nobody  knows." 

"Dead?" 

"  No  one'll  ever  be  deader." 

"  H'm !  "  The  color  had  come  back  to  Dr.  Anna's 
tired  face  and  she  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "  I'm  no 
hypocrite,  and  I  guess  you're  not  either." 

"  I'm  no  more  a  hypocrite  than  I  am  a  Democrat. 


68  MRS.    BALFAME 

His  yellow  streak  was  gettin'  wider  every  year.  It's 
good  riddance.  Still  I  wish  he'd  died  in  his  bed.  I 
don't  like  the  idea  of  a  fellow  citizen,  good  or  bad, 
bein'  shot  down  like  that.  It's  against  law  and  order, 
and  if  the  murderer's  caught  and  I'm  drawn  on  the 
jury,  and  it's  proved  he  done  it,  I'll  vote  for  convic 
tion." 

"  Quite  right,"  said  Dr.  Anna  briskly,  as  she  went 
out  into  the  hall  and  put  on  her  hat.  "  I  suppose  it's 
Mrs.  Balfame  who  wants  me?  " 

"  Yes,  that's  it.  I  remember.  But  you  ought  to  go 
home  and  get  sleep.  There's  enough  women  to  sit  up 
with  her.  The  hull  town  likely." 

"  But  I  know  she  wants  me."  Dr.  Anna's  face 
glowed  softly.  "  I'll  sleep  there  all  right  —  on  a  sofa 
beside  her  bed  —  if  she  wants  me  to  stay  on." 

"  Well,  look  out  for  yourself,"  he  growled.  "  If 
you  don't  think  about  yourself  a  little  more  you'll  soon 
have  no  show  to  think  so  much  about  other  people. 
I'm  goin'  for  the  car." 

A  few  moments  later  he  had  brought  the  little  run 
about  to  the  door,  lighted  the  lamps,  and  given  the 
doctor  a  hard  grip  of  the  hand. 

She  returned  the  pressure  in  kind.  "  Now  don't 
worry,  Mr.  Houston.  She's  all  right,  and  that  nurse 
is  first  rate.  Don't  talk  to  her.  Aggie,  I  mean.  See 
you  to-morrow  about  ten." 

She  drove  rapidly  out  of  the  gate  and  into  the  road. 
There  was  a  full  moon  shining  and  the  drive  was  but 
ten  miles  between  the  farm  and  Elsinore.  Her  face 
was  tired  and  grim.  She  had  been  in  daily  contact 
with  typhoid  fever  in  the  poor  and  dirty  quarter  of 
the  town.  In  her  arduous  life  she  had  often  experi- 


MRS.    BALFAME  69 

enced  healthy  fatigue,  but  nothing  like  this.  Could 
she  be  coming  down? 

She  swung  her  thoughts  to  Enid  Balfame,  and  for 
got  herself.  Free  at  last,  and  while  still  young  and 
lovely!  Would  she  marry  Dwight  Rush?  He  had 
leaped  into  her  mind  simultaneously  with  the  announce 
ment  of  Bal fame's  death.  But  was  he  good  enough 
for  Enid?  Was  any  man?  Why,  now  that  she  was 
a  real  widow  and  in  no  need  of  a  protector,  should  she 
marry  at  all?  At  any  rate  she  could  afford  to  wait. 
There  were  greater  prizes  to  be  captured  by  a  beautiful 
and  still  girlish  woman. 

She  was  glad  for  the  first  time  that  Enid  had  never 
had  a  child,  for  there  was  a  virgin  and  mystic  appeal 
in  the  woman  that  had  escaped  the  common  lot.  Spin 
sters  lost  it,  curiously  enough,  but  a  chaste  and  lovely 
matron,  who  had  ignored  the  book  of  experience  so 
liberally  offered  her,  and  with  eyes  as  unalloyed  as  a 
girl's  (save  when  flashing  with  intellectual  fires)  — 
what  more  distracting  anomaly  could  the  world  offer? 
Only  Mrs.  Balfame's  indifference  had  kept  the  men 
away  —  Dr.  Anna  was  convinced  of  that.  Her  future 
was  in  her  own  hands. 

Dr.  Anna's  mind  wandered  to  the  scene  of  the  mur 
der.  It  was  not  difficult  to  construct,  even  from  the 
meager  details,  and  she  shuddered.  Murder!  What 
a  hideous  word  it  was!  Horrid  that  it  should  even 
brush  the  name  of  an  exquisite  creature  like  Enid  Bal 
fame.  Would  that  Dave  Balfame  could  have  fallen 
of  apoplexy  while  disgracing  himself  at  the  Club !  But 
Anna  frowned  and  shook  the  picture  out  of  her  mind. 
Doctors  are  too  long  trained  in  death  to  be  haunted  by 
its  phantoms  in  any  form. 


70  MRS.     BALFAME 

A  sharp  turn  and  the  road  ran  beside  a  salt  marsh, 
a  solemn  grey  expanse  that  lost  itself  far  away  in  the 
grey  of  the  sea.  Suddenly  Dr.  Anna  became  aware  of 
a  man  walking  rapidly  down  the  road  toward  her.  He 
carried  his  hat  in  his  hand  as  if  his  head  were  hot 
on  this  cool  autumn  night.  There  was  no  fear  of 
man  in  Dr.  Anna,  even  on  lonely  country  roads ;  never 
theless  she  had  no  mind  to  be  detained,  and  was  about 
to  increase  her  speed,  when  her  curiosity  was  excited 
by  something  pleasantly  familiar  in  the  tall  loose  figure, 
the  almost  stiffly  upright  head.  A  moment  later  and 
the  bright  moonlight  revealed  the  white  face  of  D wight 
Rush. 

She  brought  the  car  to  an  abrupt  halt  as  he  too 
paused  and  nodded  recognition. 

"What's  the  matter?"  she  asked  sharply.  "You 
looked  as  if  you  were  walking  to  beat  time  itself  —  as 
if  you  saw  a  ghost  to  boot  — " 

"  Plenty  of  ghosts  in  my  head.  It  aches  like  the 
dickens—" 

"  Were  you  there  when  it  happened  ?  " 

"  When  what  happened?  " 

"  What  ?  You  pretend  you  don't  know  —  when 
all  Elsinore  must  have  known  it  within  five  min 
utes  — " 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about.  I  fol 
lowed  you  in  from  the  Club  and  then  took  the  train 
for  Brooklyn,  where  I  had  to  see  a  man.  When  I  got 
back  to  Elsinore  —  off  the  train  —  my  head  ached  so 
I  knew  I  couldn't  sleep  —  so  I  started  out  to  walk  it 
off  —  been  walking  for  about  two  hours." 

"  Dave  Balfame  was  shot  down  at  his  own  gate  three 
or  four  hours  ago." 


MRS.     BALFAME  71 

"  Good  God !     Who  did  it  ?     Is  he  dead  ?  " 

"  He's  dead,  and  that's  about  all  I  can  tell  you. 
Houston  went  to  the  'phone  but  he  was  in  such  a  state 
of  mind  about  his  wife  that  he  didn't  stay  for  par 
ticulars.  Enid  wanted  me  —  it  was  Lottie  Gifning  that 
'phoned.  I  gathered,  however,  that  they  haven't 
caught  the  murderer  yet." 

"Jove!"  Rush  was  shaking.  "I  feel  as  if  I'd 
been  hit  in  the  pit  of  the  stomach.  And  I'm  not  one 
to  go  to  pieces,  either.  But  I've  a  good  enough  rea 
son." 

Dr.  Anna  continued  to  stare  at  him.  He  met  her 
gaze  and  wonder  grew  in  his.  Then  the  blood  rushed 
into  his  face  and  he  threw  back  his  head.  "  What  do 
you  mean  ?  That  I  did  it  ?  " 

"  No  —  I  don't  see  you  committing  murder  — " 

"  Not  in  that  damned  skulking  way  — " 

"  Exactly.  But  you  kind  of  suggest  that  you  might 
know  something  about  it.  You  might  have  been  in 
the  grove,  or  some  other  part  of  the  grounds  —  with 
some  idea  of  protecting  Enid — " 

"  Why  should  you  think  that?  " 

"  She  told  me  —  I  didn't  think  it  a  bad  idea  myself 
—  that  you  asked  her  to  divorce  Dave  and  marry  you. 
But  she  said  she  wouldn't  and  I  guess  she  meant  it. 
Now,  get  in,"  she  added  briskly.  "  I'll  drive  you  home 
and  never  say  I  met  you.  Met  anybody  else  ?  " 

"  No  one." 

"  Unless  they  get  the  right  man  at  once,  everybody 
who  was  known  to  have  any  reason  to  wish  Dave  Bal- 
fame  out  of  the  way  will  come  under  suspicion.  For 
all  you  know,  somebody  may  have  guessed  your  secret ; 
I  saw  it  in  your  eyes  at  the  clubhouse  when  you  were 


72  MRS.     BALFAME 

trying  to  get  Dave  out  of  the  room  for  her  sake;  but 
of  course  I  was  '  on.'  Those  New  York  newspaper 
men,  however  —  watch  out  for  them.  They'll  fine- 
tooth-comb  the  county  for  the  man  in  the  case." 

Rush  had  disposed  his  long  legs  in  the  little  machine 
and  it  was  once  more  running  swiftly  on  the  smooth 
road.  "  My  brain  is  still  too  hot  to  theorise,"  he  said. 
"  May  I  smoke  ?  What  is  your  opinion  ?  " 

"  He  had  many  political  enemies ;  besides,  these  last 
two  years  he's  been  growing  more  and  more  unbear 
able,  so  I  guess  he  had  more  than  one  in  his  own  party. 
But  it  isn't  unlikely  that  some  girl  did  it.  For  some 
reason  the  trollops  liked  him,  and  I've  met  him  several 
times  of  late  driving  with  a  red-headed  minx  that  looks 
as  if  she  could  shoot  on  sight." 

"  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  I  saw  Mrs.  Balfame 
a  few  minutes  after  you  left  her.  I  was  boiling.  In 
stead  of  piloting  Balfame  out  to  Sam's  car  I  wished 
that  I  had  run  him  behind  the  clubhouse  and  horse 
whipped  him.  We  are  too  civilised  these  days.  I 
merely  went  to  his  house  and  asked  his  wife  if  she 
would  divorce  the  brute  and  marry  me.  Two  cen 
turies  ago  —  maybe  one  —  I'd  have  picked  her  up  and 
flung  her  on  my  horse  and  galloped  off  to  the  woods. 
We  haven't  improved;  we've  merely  substituted  the 
long-winded  and  indirect  method  and  called  it  civilisa 
tion." 

"Just  so.     Did  she  let  you  in?" 

"  Not  she.  You  might  know  that  without  asking. 
Nor  was  she  any  nearer  divorce  than  before.  When 
I  offered  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  him,  she  merely 
slammed  the  door  in  my  face.  But  I  went  to  the  win 
dow  and  made  her  promise  that  if  she  were  ever  in 


MRS.     BALFAME  73 

trouble  I  should  be  the  first  person  she  would  send 
for—  " 

"  But  you  weren't ! "  Dr.  Anna's  voice  rang  with 
jealous  triumph.  "  I  was  the  first.  But  never  mind 
me.  I've  adored  her  for  forty  years,  and  you  haven't 
known  her  as  many  weeks.  Tell  me,  you  didn't  con 
ceal  yourself  anywhere  in  the  grounds  to  watch  over 
her?  She  must  have  been  all  alone.  Every  servant 
in  town  takes  Saturday  night  out." 

"  I  inferred  that  Sam  would  keep  him  at  his  house 
all  night.  Besides,  I  knew  she  had  a  pistol.  Balfame 
told  me  the  day  he  bought  her  one  in  New  York ;  when 
those  burglaries  began." 

"  Well,  don't  tell  any  one  that  you  offered  to  dis 
pose  of  her  husband  —  a  few  moments  before  he  was 
killed !  It  might  make  unnecessary  trouble  for  a  rising 
young  lawyer." 

"  I  am  quite  able  to  do  my  own  thinking  and  take 
care  of  myself,"  he  said  haughtily,  stung  by  her  tone. 
"If  you  choose  to  think  me  guilty,  do  so.  And  let  me 
tell  you  that  if  I  had  done  it  I  shouldn't  put  my  head 
in  the  ash  barrel." 

"  No,  but  you  might  do  your  best  to  avoid  the  chair. 
Small  blame  to  you.  Well,  as  I  said,  you're  safe  as 
far  as  I  am  concerned.  I  wouldn't  send  a  dog  to  the 
chair.  That  is — "  she  looked  at  him  threateningly, 
"  if  you  really  do  love  Enid  and  want  to  marry  her." 

"  Love  her?  I'd  marry  her  if  she  had  done  it  her 
self  and  I'd  caught  her  red-handed." 

"That's  the  real  thing,  I  guess."  She  patted  his 
hand  approvingly.  "  I'll  do  what  I  can  to  help  you. 
She's  not  a  bit  in  love  with  you  yet,  but  that's  because 
she's  the  purest  creature  on  earth  and  never  would  let 


74  MRS.     BALFAME 

herself  even  dream  of  a  man  she  couldn't  marry. 
She's  one  of  the  last  grand  representatives  of  the  old 
Puritan  stock  —  and  when  you  see  as  much  mean  and 
secret  infidelity,  dose  as  many  morbid  hysterical 
women,  as  I  do  —  Oh,  Lord !  No  wonder  I  see  Enid 
Balfame  shining  with  cold  radiance  in  the  high 
heavens.  I  may  idealise  her  a  bit,  but  I  don't  care. 
It  would  be  a  sad  old  world  if  you  couldn't  exalt  at 
least  one  human  above  the  muck-ruck.  Well,  she  likes 
you,  and  you  have  interested  her.  Just  be  on  hand 
when  she  wants  you,  needs  you.  When  this  excite 
ment  is  over  and  she  is  tired  of  female  gabble,  she'll  turn 
to  you  naturally,  if  you  manage  her  properly  and  don't 
butt  in  too  soon.  Quiet  persistence  and  tact;  that's 
your  game.  I'll  put  in  a  good  word." 

"  By  George,  you  are  a  good  fellow !  "  He  leaned 
over  and  kissed  her  impulsively.  As  Dr.  Anna  felt  the 
pressure  of  those  warm  firm  lips  on  her  faded  cheek, 
she  astonished  herself  and  him  by  bursting  into  tears. 
In  an  instant,  however,  she  dashed  them  away  and 
gave  an  odd  gurgling  laugh. 

"  Don't  mind  a  silly  old  maid  —  who  loves  Enid 
Balfame  more  than  life,  I  guess.  And  I'm  a  country 
doctor,  Dwight,  who's  had  a  hard  night  bringing  one 
more  unfortunate  female  into  the  world.  I  feel  bet 
ter  since  I  cried  —  first  time  since  you  boys  used  to 
tease  me  at  school  because  I  had  cheeks  like  red  pip 
pins  —  you  don't  remember  me  over  at  school  in  your 
village.  Renselaerville.  I  lived  there  for  a  spell,  and 
I  remember  you.  But  this  isn't  the  time  for  reminis 
cences.  Where  do  you  live  ?  We'll  be  in  the  outskirts 
in  three  minutes." 

"  I  have  rooms  at  The  Brabant." 


MRS.     BALFAME  75 

"Any  night  clerk?" 

"  No ;  it's  an  apartment  house." 

"  Good.  We're  somewhere  in  the  small  hours  all 
right." 

She  drove  swiftly  through  the  sleeping  town,  slow 
ing  down  on  the  corner  of  Main  Street  and  Atlantic 
Avenue.  Rush  sprang  out  with  a  word  of  thanks  and 
walked  up  the  avenue  to  The  Brabant.  The  trees  here 
were  neither  old  nor  close,  for  this  was  the  quarter  of 
the  wealthy  newcomers  and  of  the  older  residents  that 
had  prospered  and  rebuilt.  But  not  a  soul  was  abroad, 
and  he  let  himself  into  the  bachelor  apartment  house 
and  mounted  the  two  flights  to  his  rooms  unseen. 


CHAPTER  IX 

AS  Rush  closed  his  own  door  behind  him,  his  trou 
bled  spirit  shifted  its  load.  Indubitably,  if  Dr. 
Anna  had  not  met  him  he  should  have  walked  until  ex 
hausted,  and  then  boarded  a  train  somewhere  down 
the  line  and  arrived  in  Elsinore  dishevelled,  haggard, 
altogether  an  object  of  suspicion.  None  knew  better 
than  he  that  in  a  small  community  the  lightning  of  sus 
picion  plays  incessantly,  throwing  the  faces  of  innocent 
and  guilty  alike  into  distorted  relief.  And  he  had  half 
expected  to  find  a  newspaper  man  awaiting  him  in  the 
hall  below. 

Before  turning  on  his  lights  he  felt  his  way  to  the 
windows  and  drew  the  curtains  close.  For  all  he  knew 
there  might  be  a  detective  or  a  reporter  sitting  on  the 
opposite  fence.  His  legal  mind,  deeply  versed  in  crim 
inal  law,  fully  appreciated  his  danger  and  warned  him 
to  arm  at  every  point. 

The  district  attorney,  one  of  Balfame's  men.  clever, 
ambitious,  but  too  ill-educated  to  hope  to  graduate  from 
Brabant  County,  or  even,  political  influence  lacking,  to 
climb  into  the  first  rank  at  home,  hated  the  brilliant 
newcomer  who  had  beaten  him  twice  during  his  brief 
term  of  office.  That  Rush  "  hailed  "  originally  from 
the  county  only  added  to  the  grievance.  If  Brabant 
wasn't  good  enough  for  him  in  the  first  place,  why 
hadn't  he  stayed  where  he  was  wanted? 

But  Rush  dismissed  him  from  his  mind  as  he  remem- 

76 


MRS.     BALFAME  77 

bered  uneasily  that  Alys  Crumley  had  been  sketching 
out  there  at  the  Club  while  he  had  been  wrestling  with 
David  Balfame.  He  knew  her  ambition  to  get  a  posi 
tion  on  a  New  York  newspaper  as  a  sketch  artist ;  but 
the  possibility  that  she  might  have  guessed  the  secret 
of  his  interest  in  putting  an  end  to  the  scene,  or  in 
tended  to  sell  her  drawing  to  one  of  the  reporters, 
would  have  given  him  little  uneasiness  had  the  artist 
not  been  a  young  woman  upon  whom  he  had  ceased  to 
call  some  two  months  since. 

He  had  met  Alys  Crumley  about  eighteen  months 
after  he  had  returned  to  Brabant  County  and  some 
three  months  after  he  had  moved  from  Dobton  to 
Elsinore,  and  at  once  had  been  attracted  by  her  bright 
ambitious  mind,  combined  with  a  real  personality  and 
an  appearance  both  smart  and  artistic. 

Miss  Crumley  prided  herself  upon  being  unique  in 
Elsinore,  at  least,  and  although  her  thick  well-groomed 
hair  was  dressed  with  classic  severity,  and  she  wore 
soft  gowns  of  an  indescribable  cut  in  the  house,  and 
at  the  evening  parties  of  her  friends,  she  was  far  too 
astute  to  depart  from  the  fashion  of  the  moment  in 
the  crucial  test  of  street  dress  and  hat.  In  Park  Row 
during  her  brief  sojourn  in  the  newspaper  world,  she 
had  commanded  attention  among  the  critical  press 
women  as  a  girl  who  knew  how  to  dress  smartly  and 
yet  add  that  personal  touch  which,  when  attempted  by 
those  lacking  genius  in  dress,  ruins  the  effect  of  the 
most  extravagant  tailor.  Miss  Crumley  by  no  means 
patronised  these  autocrats  of  Fifth  Avenue;  she  bought 
her  tailored  suits  at  the  ready-made  establishments,  but 
like  many  another  American  girl,  she  knew  how  to  buy, 
and  above  all,  how  to  wear  her  clothes. 


78  MRS.     BALFAME 

She  had  taught  for  several  years  after  graduating 
from  the  High  School;  then,  her  nerves  rebelling,  had 
abandoned  this  most  monotonous  of  careers  for  news 
paper  work.  To  reporting  her  physique  had  not 
proved  equal,  and  although  she  would  have  made  an 
admirable  fashion  editor  these  enviable  positions  were 
adequately  filled.  On  the  advice  of  the  star  reporter 
of  her  paper,  Mr.  James  Broderick,  who,  with  other 
newspaper  men  had  been  entertained  occasionally  at  tea 
of  a  Sunday  afternoon  in -her  charming  little  home  in 
Elsinore,  she  had  developed  her  talent  for  drawing 
during  the  past  year;  Mr.  Broderick  promising  to  "  find 
her  a  job  "  as  staff  artist  when  she  had  improved  her 
technique. 

Then  Dwight  Rush  appeared. 

Miss  Crumley  lived  with  her  mother  in  the  family 
cottage  next  door  to  Dr.  Anna's  in  Elsinore  Avenue. 
Mrs.  Crumley,  who  was  the  relict  of  a  G.  A.  R.  had 
eked  out  her  pension  during  the  schooldays  of  her 
daughter  with  fine  sewing,  finding  most  of  her  patrons 
among  the  newcomers.  She  also  had  cooked  for  the 
Woman's  Exchange  of  Brooklyn,  besides  catering  for 
public  dinners  and  evening  parties.  For  several  years 
she  enjoyed  a  complete  rest;  therefore,  when  Alys  re 
tired  temporarily  from  the  office  of  provider  in  order 
to  study  art,  Mrs.  Crumley  willingly  re-entered  the  in 
dustrial  field.  As  both  the  practical  mother  and  the 
clever  daughter  were  amiable  women  it  was  a  har 
monious  little  household  that  Dwight  Rush  found  him 
self  drifting  toward  intimacy  with  soon  after  he  met 
the  young  lady  at  a  clubhouse  dance. 

The  living-room  —  Alys  long  since  had  abolished  the 
word  parlour  from  her  vocabulary  —  was  furnished  in 


MRS.     BALFAME  79 

various  shades  of  green  as  harmonious  as  the  family 
temper;  there  was  a  low  bookcase  filled  with  fashion 
able  literature,  English  and  American;  the  magazines 
and  reviews  on  the  table  were  almost  blatantly  "  high 
brow,"  and  the  cool  green  walls  were  further  embel 
lished  with  a  few  delicate  water  colours  conceived  in 
the  back-yard  atelier  by  an  individual  mind  if  executed 
by  a  still  somewhat  halting  brush. 

For  four  months  Rush  had  been  a  constant  visitor  at 
the  cottage.  Miss  Crumley,  who  was  as  progressively 
modern  as  an  automobile  factory,  was  full  of  enthusi 
asm  at  the  moment  for  the  cult  of  sexless  friendship 
between  a  man  and  a  maid.  She  had  considered  James 
Broderick  at  one  time  as  a  likely  partner  for  a  phil 
osophic  romance  (the  adjective  Platonic  was  out  of 
date;  moreover,  it  implied  that  the  cult  was  not  as 
modern  as  its  devotees  would  wish  it  to  appear) ;  but  the 
brilliant  (and  handsome)  young  reporter  not  only  was 
very  busy  but  of  a  mecurial  and  uncertain  tempera 
ment.  Nor  did  he  appear  to  be  a  youth  of  lofty  ideals ; 
from  certain  remarks,  uttered  casually,  to  make  matters 
worse,  Alys  was  forced  to  conclude  that  he  despised  the 
man  who  "  wasted  his  time "  only  less  than  he  de 
spised  the  "  chaser."  If  pretty,  interesting,  and  unno- 
tional  girls  came  his  way  and  liked  him  enough,  that 
was  "  all  to  the  good  " ;  a  busy  newspaper  man  at  the 
beck  and  call  of  a  city  editor  had  no  time  for  studying 
over  the  map  of  a  girl's  soul,  the  lord  knew;  but  if  a 
girl  wasn't  a  "  dead  game  sport,"  then  the  sooner  a 
man  left  the  field  to  some  one  with  more  time,  or  a 
yearning  for  matrimony,  the  better.  These  remarks 
had  been  deliberately  thrown  out  by  the  canny  Mr. 
Broderick,  who  liked  "  the  kid  "  and  didn't  want  her 


8o  MRS.     BALFAME 

to  "  get  in  wrong  "  (particularly  with  himself  as  he 
enjoyed  both  her  society  and  the  artistic  living-room 
• — and  Mrs.  Crumley's  confections)  but  who  saw 
straight  through  Alys'  shifting  modernities  to  the  mak 
ings  of  a  fine  primitive  female. 

But  Rush  was  no  student  in  sex  psychology.  He 
took  Miss  Crumley  on  her  face  value ;  delighted  in  find 
ing  a  comfortable  friend  of  the  counter  sex,  and  was 
more  than  amenable  to  her  desire  to  cultivate  in  him  a 
taste  for  modern  literature;  since  his  graduation  he 
had  hardly  opened  anything  but  law  books,  legal  re 
views,  and  the  daily  newspaper.  She  read  aloud  ad 
mirably  —  particularly  plays  —  and  he  liked  to  listen ; 
and  as  she  convinced  him  that  he  was  missing  a  good 
part  of  life,  it  was  not  long  before  he  was  buying  for 
leisurely  midnight  consumption  such  work  of  the  fash 
ionable  writers  as  was  stimulating  and  intellectual,  and 
at  the  same  time  sincere. 

She  also  took  him  over  to  several  symphony  concerts, 
and  often  played  classic  selections  to  him  in  the  twi 
light.  He  had  no  objection  to  music,  as  it  either 
spurred  his  mind  into  fresh  activity  upon  problems  be 
setting  it,  or  soothed  him  into  slumber.  He  loved  the 
little  room  with  the  soft  green  shadows;  it  reminded 
him  of  the  woods,  of  which  he  still  was  passionately 
fond ;  and  he  found  it  both  homelike  and  safe.  Other 
houses  in  Elsinore,  larger  and  more  luxurious,  were 
homelike  enough,  but  too  often  were  graced  by  mar 
riageable  daughters,  who  "  showed  their  hand."  Rush 
was  as  little  vain  and  conceited  as  a  man  may  be,  but 
he  was  well  aware  that  eligible  men  in  Elsinore  were 
few,  and  that  everybody  must  know  that  his  intake, 
already  large,  must  increase  with  the  years. 


MRS.     BALFAME  81 

But  —  as  the  wise  Mr.  Broderick  would  have  pre 
dicted  had  he  not  been  interested  elsewhere  during  this 
period  —  the  tension  grew  too  strong  for  Alys  Crum 
ley.  Nervous  and  high-strung,  with  her  reservoir  of 
human  emotions  undepleted  by  even  a  hard  flirtation 
since  her  early  youth,  idealistic,  romantic,  and  im 
aginative,  she  began  to  realise  that  with  each 
long  uninterrupted  evening  —  Mrs.  Crumley  was  the 
most  tactful  of  parents  —  she  was  growing  more 
femininely  sensitive  to  this  man's  magnetism  and 
charm,  to  his  quick  responsive  mind,  to  the  mobility 
under  the  surface  of  his  lean  hard  face,  to  the  sugges 
tion  of  indomitable  strength  which  was  the  chief  char 
acteristic  of  the  new  American  race  of  men. 

It  was  not  long  before  she  was  exaggerating  every 
attractive  attribute  he  possessed  until  he  no  longer 
seemed  what  he  was,  a  fine  specimen  of  his  type,  but 
a  glorified  superbeing  and  the  one  desirable  man  on 
earth.  Her  sense  of  superiority  over  this  "  rather 
crude  Western  specimen  who  knew  nothing  but  his 
job,"  and  to  whom  she  could  teach  so  much,  had  pro 
tected  her  for  a  time,  held  her  femaleness  and  imagina 
tion  in  abeyance,  but  insensibly  his  sheer  masculinity 
swamped  her,  left  her  without  a  rock  but  pride  to  cling 
to. 

It  was  then  that  she  showed  her  hand. 

For  a  time  after  her  discovery  she  was  merely  furi 
ous  with  herself;  she  was  twenty-six  and  no  weakling, 
neither  sentiment  nor  passion  should  master  her.  But 
this  phase  was  brief.  Infatuation  is  not  cast  out  either 
by  reason  or  pride,  and  very  soon  her  mind  opened  to 
the  insidious  whisper:  "Why  not?"  What  was  the 
career  of  staff  artist,  full  of  liberty,  excitement,  and 


82  MRS.     BALFAME 

good  fellowship  as  it  might  be,  to  marriage  with  an 
ambitious  man  capable  of  inspiring  the  wildest  love? 
Sooner  or  later  had  she  not  intended  to  make  just  such 
a  marriage? 

From  this  inception  her  deductions  followed  in  log 
ical  feminine  sequence.  If  she  loved  him  with  a  com 
pleteness  which  was  both  preadamic  and  neoteric,  it 
was  of  course  because  he  was  consumed  with  a  similar 
passion;  in  other  words  he  was  her  mate.  He  might 
be  too  comfortable  and  content  to  have  realised  it  so 
far,  but  only  one  awakening  was  possible,  and  hers  was 
the  entrancing  part  to  reveal  him  to  himself. 

She  knew  that  while  by  no  means  a  beauty,  she  was 
as  far  from  commonplace  in  colouring  at  least  as  in 
style.  Her  eyes  were  an  odd  opaque  olive,  their  tint 
so  pronounced  that  it  seemed  to  invade  the  pale  ivory 
of  her  skin  and  the  smooth  masses  of  her  hair.  It  was 
a  far  more  subtle  face  than  American  women  as  a 
rule  possess,  and  the  eyes  in  spite  of  a  curious  in 
scrutability  that  might  mean  anything  were  capable  of 
a  play  of  lights  directed  from  a  battery  more  archaic 
than  modern ;  and  late  one  evening  after  she  had  read 
him  an  impassioned  drama  (ancient)  and  there  was  a 
dusky  rose  in  either  cheek,  she  turned  them  on. 

Rush  immediately  took  fright.  She  had  not  roused 
a  responsive  spark  of  passion  in  him.  Moreover,  he 
was  now  haunted  continually  by  the  image  of  a  sweet, 
remote,  and  (to  him)  far  more  mysterious  woman, 
whom  he  worshipped  as  the  ideal  of  all  womanhood. 

There  was  none  of  the  old  time  American  suavity 
about  Rush.  He  was  abrupt,  forthright,  and  impa 
tient.  But  he  was  kind  and  innately  chivalrous.  He 
"  let  Miss  Crumley  down  "  as  gently  as  he  could ;  but 


MRS.     BALFAME  83 

he  let  her  down.  No  doubt  of  that.  In  less  than  a 
week  she  faced  the  bewildering  fact  that  a  man  could 
strike  loose  a  woman's  emotional  torrents  while  his  own 
depths  awaited  the  magical  touch  of  another.  It  was 
incredible,  preposterous. 

For  a  time  Alys,  in  the  privacy  of  her  atelier,  raged 
like  a  fury.  She  cursed  Rush,  particularly  when 
engaged  in  a  violent  struggle  with  the  pride  which  alone 
held  her  from  grovelling  at  his  feet. 

She  was  further  incensed  that  he  had  revealed  her  to 
herself  as  a  mere  morbid  unsatisfied  girl,  whose  quarter 
of  a  century  should  be  crowned  by  a  little  family  of 
three;  and  at  last  she  doubted  if  she  had  ever  loved  him 
at  all.  That  she  had  been  a  mere  female  principle  un 
able  to  escape  its  impersonal  destiny  disgusted  her  with 
life,  but  it  served  to  restore  her  balance  and  philosophy. 

Being  a  girl  of  brains  and  character  she  emerged 
from  the  encounter  with  pride  still  crested  in  the  eyes 
of  the  man;  and  if  his  image  was  too  deeply  stamped 
into  her  imagination  to  prevent  a  recurrence  of  wild 
desire  whenever  she  was  so  imprudent  as  to  let  her 
mind  wander,  she  remembered  that  all  great  physical 
upheavals  are  followed  by  many  minor  shocks,  and 
waited  with  what  patience  she  could  command  for  full 
delivery. 

Of  the  sanguinary  condition  of  the  battle  ground  in 
his  young  friend's  soul  Rush  had  a  mere  glimpse  be 
fore  she  took  heed  and  dissembled.  He  assumed  that 
she  either  had  fallen  in  love  with  him  after  the  fashion 
of  girls  when  they  saw  too  much  of  a  man,  or  that  she 
was  eager  to  marry  and  improve  her  condition.  He 
reproached  himself  for  thoughtlessness,  renounced  the 
long  evenings  in  the  pretty  room  with  a  sigh,  and  in 


84  MRS.     B  A  L  F  A  M  E 

his  bachelor  quarters  read  the  books  of  her  choice.  He 
had  a  very  kindly  feeling  for  her,  for  he  knew  that  he 
owed  her  a  debt;  if  he  had  not  met  the  other  woman 
—  who  could  tell  ?  Moreover,  as  he  conceived  it  to  be 
his  duty  to  shield  her  from  spiteful  comment,  he 
danced  with  her  in  public  and  joined  her  on  the  street 
whenever  they  met. 

But  if  he  knew  nothing  of  the  intricate  and  inter 
minable  ramifications  of  sex  psychology,  the  infinite 
variety  of  moods  peculiar  to  a  woman  in  love,  he  was 
well  enough  aware  that  love  is  easily  turned  to  hate, 
particularly  when  vanity  has  been  deeply  wounded; 
and  although  he  had  conceived  a  high  esteem  for  Alys 
Crumley's  character  during  the  weeks  of  their  in 
timacy,  he  knew  that  men  had  been  mistaken  in  their 
estimate  of  women  before  this,  and  that  if  she  dis 
covered  that  he  loved  another  woman  she  might  be 
capable  of  taking  the  basest  revenge. 

It  was  possible  that  she  was  the  noblest  of  her  sex, 
and  he  hoped  she  was,  but  as  he  considered  her  that 
night,  he  realised  that  it  behooved  him  to  walk  warily 
nevertheless.  By  the  time  he  could  marry  Enid  Bal- 
fame,  or  even  betray  his  desire  to  marry  her,  this  crime 
would  have  passed  into  county  history.  Of  the  real 
danger  he  never  thought. 

The  vision  evoked  of  Alys  Crumley  was  accompanied 
by  that  of  her  home,  and  he  looked  round  his  stark 
bachelor  quarters  with  a  sigh. 

The  untidy  sitting-room  was  crowded  with  law 
books  and  legal  reviews;  the  maid  had  given  it  up  in 
despair  long  since,  and  only  swept  out  the  ashes  daily 
and  dusted  once  a  week. 

In  the  small  bedroom  was  an  iron  bed  like  a  soldier's ; 


MRS.     BALFAME  85 

neckties  hung  from  the  chandelier;  on  the  bureau  and 
table  beside  the  bed  were  more  books,  several  by  the 
young  British  authors  of  the  moment  for  whom  Miss 
Crumley  had  communicated  some  of  her  rather  per 
functory  enthusiasm. 

He  flung  his  clothes  all  over  the  room  as  he  un 
dressed.  He  hated  bachelor  quarters.  Six  months 
hence  he  would  be  the  master  of  a  home  as  exquisite 
as  the  woman  he  loved.  Balfame!  The  man  was 
dead,  but  as  Rush  thought  of  him  his  face  turned  al 
most  black  and  his  hands  tingled  and  clenched.  It 
would  be  long  before  he  could  hear  that  name  men 
tioned  without  a  hot  uprush  of  hatred  and  loathing. 
But  it  subsided  and  he  took  a  bath  and  "  turned  in." 


CHAPTER  X 

AS  Rush  walked  to  the  Elks'  Club  for  breakfast  a 
few  hours  later  he  felt  that  suspicion  was  in  the 
very  air  of  Elsinore,  the  very  leaves  of  the  quiet  Sun 
day  streets  rustled  with  it.  Even  on  Atlantic  Avenue 
there  were  knots  of  men  discussing  the  murder,  and  in 
Main  Street  every  man  that  passed  received  a  hard 
stare. 

Rush  was  thankful  to  observe  that  all  looked  as  if 
they  had  gone  to  bed  late  and  slept  little,  and  when  he 
met  Sam  Cummack  on  the  steps  of  the  clubhouse  he 
realised  the  advantages  of  the  habit  of  careful  groom 
ing  to  which  the  deceased's  brother-in-law  was  quite  in 
different. 

"  Oh,  Dwight ! "  groaned  Cummack,  seizing  his 
hand.  "  Where  were  you  last  night  ?  I'd  have  liked  to 
have  you  round." 

"  I  was  in  Brooklyn  and  got  back  late.  What's  your 
opinion  ?  " 

"  I've  had  a  dozen  but  they  don't  seem  to  hold  water. 
I  guess  it  was  a  gunman,  imported  direct  —  though 
perhaps  I'm  just  hoping  it  wasn't  one  of  them  trollops 
did  it  —  for  the  sake  of  the  family  as  well  as  poor 
Dave's  name.  I  don't  want  a  scandal  like  that.  Mur 
der's  bad  enough,  the  Lord  knows." 

"  What  sort  of  footsteps  in  the  grounds?  " 

"  Every  kind  we've  got  in  Elsinore,  I  guess.  About 

86 


MRS.     BALFAME  87 

forty  people  were  runnin'  round  the  yard  before  the 
police  came.  Funny  that  Gifning  didn't  think  of  that. 
But  he  says  the  breath  was  knocked  out  of  him.  Jim- 
miny!  I  never  knew  anything  to  upset  the  town  like 
this  before  —  the  county,  you  might  say.  The  tele 
phone's  been  buzzin'  till  the  girls  have  threatened  to 
strike.  An  operator  fainted  this  morning  —  wonder 
if  Dave  knew  her?  " 

"  Well,  I  am  rather  surprised  to  learn  that  Balfame 
was  so  popular  — " 

"  Tain't  that  only  —  though  Dave  still  had  lots  of 
friends  in  spite  of  that  ugly  temper  he  was  growin' ; 
but  we've  all  got  enemies  —  every  last  one  of  us  —  and 
to  be  shot  down  at  his  own  gate  like  that  —  Gee,  it  has 
given  every  man  in  town  the  creeps.  We  must  get  the 
man  quick  and  make  an  example  of  him.  I  hope  I'm 
drawn." 

"  I  hope  he  doesn't  ask  me  to  defend  him.  How  is 
Mrs.  Balfame  bearing  up?  " 

"  Fine.  She's  as  cool  as  they  make  'em.  I'd  hate 
to  be  married  to  one  of  them  cucumbers  myself,  but 
they're  damned  convenient  in  times  of  trouble.  Maybe 
she  cared  a  lot  for  Dave ;  who  knows  ?  At  any  rate  we 
must  make  people  think  she  did.  I  don't  want  sus 
picion  pointing  to  her." 

"  What !  It  is  incredible  that  you  should  think  of 
such  a  thing."  Rush,  always  pale,  had  turned  as  white 
as  chalk.  "  You  can't  mean  that  people  are  saying  — " 

"  Not  yet.  But  we've  got  to  be  prepared  for  any 
thing,  especially  with  these  New  York  newspapermen 
on  the  trail.  Unless  we  catch  the  murderer  damned 
quick,  every  last  one  of  us  that  was  close  to  Dave  that 
can't  prove  an  alibi  will  be  suspected.  Why,  I  walked 


88  MRS.     BALFAME 

with  him  for  two  blocks  after  he  left  my  house  — 
thought  he  might  not  be  able  to  make  it  alone,  and  he 
wouldn't  go  in  the  car;  then,  I  didn't  go  straight  home, 
either.  I  went  to  my  office  to  straighten  out  something 
—  Oh,  Lord!  don't  let's  talk  of  it;  I  must  have  been 
there  alone,  not  a  soul  to  see  me,  when  he  was  shot.  It 
gives  me  the  horrors  to  think  of  it  — " 

"  Nonsense !  It  was  well  known  that  you  were  his 
best  friend.  No  one  would  think  of  you." 

"  They  might !     They  might !  " 

«  Well  —  about  Mrs.  Balfame?  " 

"  Oh,  she's  got  the  best  alibi  ever.  She'd  packed  his 
suitcase  and  carried  it  downstairs,  and  even  written  a 
note  describing  some  bag  or  other  she  wanted  and 
pinned  it  to  his  coat.  I  was  there  when  the  police  ex 
amined  it.  They're  not  saying  who  they're  suspectin', 
but  they're  doin'  a  heap  of  thinkin'.  Fact  remains 
that  she  was  alone  in  the  front  of  the  house  — 
that  mutt  of  a  hired  girl  she's  got  was  way  up 
in  the  back  part  groanin'  with  a  toothache  when  I 
routed  her  out.  If  she  wasn't  such  a  fright  that  Dave 
wouldn't  have  looked  at  her  —  jWell,  the  police  know 
that  Dave  wasn't  what  you  might  call  a  model  husband ; 
but  Enid,  so  far  as  we  all  know,  never  rowed  him. 
That's  the  most  tryin'  sort,  though,  and  generally  con 
ceals  the  most  hate.  But  she  had  her  clubs  and  all  the 
rest  of  it.  Maybe  she  didn't  care.  I'm  only  won- 
derin'  what  Phipps  thinks.  That's  the  reason  I  want 
her  to  see  the  newspapermen.  She  might  throw  them 
off  the  scent  at  least.  Of  course,  they'd  rather  she'd 
done  it  than  any  one  — " 

"  You  won't  even  hint  to  her  that  she  may  be  sus 
pected?"  interrupted  Rush,  sharply. 


MRS.     BALFAME  89 

"  Oh,  Lord,  no.  I'd  never  dare.  Just  persuade  her 
somehow.  Guess  Anna  or  Polly  can  manage  it." 

Rush  turned  and  walked  down  the  steps.  "  I'll  go  to 
the  Elsinore  to  breakfast.  The  reporters  are  likely  to 
show  up  there.  I  know  Jim  Broderick.  We  must  be 
on  the  job  all  the  time." 


CHAPTER  XI 

TO  Dr.  Anna  alone  Mrs.  Balfame  told  the  story 
of  the  night,  although,  implicit  as  was  her  trust, 
with  certain  reservations.  She  omitted  the  detail  of 
the  poisoned  lemonade,  but  otherwise  unburdened  her 
self  with  freedom  and  relief. 

"  Before  I  knew  where  I  was,"  she  concluded,  "  there 
was  the  kitchen  door  closed  behind  me.  I  can't  under 
stand  why  I  lost  my  presence  of  mind.  I  could  easily 
have  run  through  the  back  door  and  out  the  front,  and 
reached  him  about  the  time  Gifning  did." 

Dr.  Anna  was  drinking  strong  coffee.  It  was  eight 
o'clock,  and  she  had  gone  downstairs  and  made  break 
fast  for  her  friend  and  herself,  Frieda  having  retired 
to  her  room  and  bolted  the  door.  The  doctor  had 
heard  the  whole  story  as  soon  as  she  arrived,  but  after 
an  interval  of  sleep  had  asked  for  it  again. 

"  I  think  it's  better  as  it  is,"  she  said  thoughtfully. 
"  No  one  could  have  seen  you.  The  moon  rose  late ; 
the  night  at  that  time  must  have  been  pitch  dark.  The 
trees  alone  would  have  shielded  you,  even  had  any  one 
been  watching.  Suspicion  never  would  fall  on  you 
anyhow;  you  are  too  far  above  it,  and  Dave  had  been 
insulting  people  right  and  left  the  last  year.  But  you 
want  to  avoid  blackmail.  The  only  thing  that  dis 
turbs  me  is  that  that  girl  may  have  been  on  the  back 
stairs  when  you  came  in.  I'll  come  in  for  lunch  and 

90 


MRS.     BALFAME  91 

talk  to  her  then.  You  keep  to  your  room.  Rest,  and 
sleep  if  you  can.  I  don't  fancy  you'll  have  early  visi 
tors.  Everybody'll  sleep  late.  I  wish  I  could !  " 

"  Will  you  stop  in  and  see  Dr.  Lequeur  about  your 
self—" 

"  If  I  can  find  a  minute.  Don't  worry  about  me. 
I'm  tough,  and  the  Lord  knows  I  ought  to  be  immune." 

But  she  found  no  time  to  see  a  doctor  in  her  own 
behalf  and  returned  to  the  Balfame  house  between 
twelve  and  one.  Reporters  were  sitting  on  the  box 
hedge  and  on  the  doorstep.  She  evaded  them  good- 
naturedly,  but  it  was  some  time  before  she  was  ad 
mitted  by  the  rebellious  Frieda,  who  had  been  sum 
moned  to  the  front  door  some  sixteen  times  during  the 
forenoon. 

When  Dr.  Anna  finally  found  herself  in  the  dark  hall 
she  saw  that  Frieda's  face  was  swollen  and  tied  up  in 
a  towel.  The  spectacle  gave  the  doctor  an  instant  op 
portunity. 

"  The  worst  infliction  on  earth,  bar  none !  "  she  an 
nounced,  following  the  maid  into  the  kitchen.  "  Let 
me  take  a  look  at  it?  How  long  have  you  had  it?  " 

"  Two  days,"  replied  Frieda  sullenly,  unamenable  to 
sympathy  which  offered  no  immediate  surcease  of  pain. 

"Abscess?" 

"  Don't  know." 

Frieda's  mental  processes  were  slow.  Before  she 
could  follow  the  doctor's  the  bandage  was  ripped  off 
and  a  sharp  eye  was  examining  the  inflamed  interior 
of  her  cavernous  mouth.  A  moment  later  Dr.  Anna 
had  opened  her  doctor's  bag  and  was  anointing  the  sur 
roundings  of  the  tortured  tooth  with  a  brown  liquid. 

"  That  won't  cure  it,"  she  said,  "  but  no  dentist  could 


92  MRS.     BALFAME 

do  more  until  the  swelling  is  reduced.  And  it  will  save 
you  a  preliminary  bill.  Keep  this.  As  soon  as  you 
feel  you  can  stand  it,  go  to  Dr.  Meyers,  Main  Street. 
Tell  him  I  sent  you.  But  why  didn't  you  tell  Mrs.  Bal- 
f ame  last  night  ?  Why  endure  pain  ?  Kind  mistresses 
always  keep  such  alleviatives  in  the  house,  and  Mrs. 
Balfame  is  not  the  sort  to  mind  being  roused  in  the  mid 
dle  of  the  night  if  some  one  were  suffering." 

The  pain  had  subsided  under  treatment,  and  Frieda 
was  restored  to  such  civility  as  she  knew.  "  It  only  got 
bad  when  I  am  dancing  to  the  hall,  and  I  ran  home. 
I  had  some  drops  in  my  room." 

"  Oh,  I  see.     Did  they  stop  the  pain  ?  " 

"  Nix.  Ache  like  before,  but  I  lie  down  and  per 
haps  can  sleep  if  those  men  have  not  make  me  come 
downstairs  to  make  the  coffee.  All  night  I  am  up." 
And  she  glowered  with  self-pity. 

"  But  when  you  found  that  your  drops  were  no  good, 
why  didn't  you  run  at  once  to  Mrs.  Balfame?  You 
were  braver  than  I  should  have  been.  It  was  about 
eight  o'clock,  was  it  not,  when  Mr.  Balfame  was  shot? 
Mrs.  Balfame  was  probably  awake  when  you  came  in, 
even  if  she  had  gone  to  bed.  Or  perhaps  you  didn't 
know  that  she  came  home  early  ?  " 

"  On  Saturday  nights  she  come  home  after  I  do. 
How  I  am  to  know  she  is  here?  " 

"  But  you  might  have  gone  to  her  medicine  closet 
> —  in  her  bathroom." 

"  When  you  have  the  pain  like  hot  iron  you  think  of 
all  the  good  things  for  it  the  next  day."  Frieda  re 
lapsed  into  sullen  silence ;  Dr.  Anna  hastily  disposed  of 
the  lunch  prepared  for  her  and  went  upstairs. 

Mrs.  Balfame  was  lying  on  the  sofa.     She  had  not 


MRS.     BALFAME  93 

dressed,  but  looked  as  trim  as  usual  in  a  blue  and  white 
bathrobe;  never  having  been  a  woman  to  "  let  herself 
go,"  she  did  not  possess  a  wrapper.  Her  long  hair 
hung  in  two  loose  braids,  and  she  looked  very  pale 
and  lovely. 

"  Put  Frieda  out  of  your  head,"  said  Dr.  Anna  hur 
riedly;  familiar  voices  ascended  from  the  path  below. 
"  She  heard  nothing.  You  don't  when  you  have  a 
jumping  toothache." 

"Thank  heaven!" 

A  soft  knock  announced  several  of  her  friends. 
They  were  dressed  for  motoring;  this  being  Sunday, 
not  even  death  must  interfere  with  the  cross-country 
refreshment  of  the  Elsinore  husband.  They  kissed 
Mrs.  Balfame  and  congratulated  her  upon  her  appear 
ance  and  her  nerves. 

"  But  one  thing  must  be  settled  right  here,"  an 
nounced  Mrs.  Gifning,  "  and  that  is  the  question  of 
your  mourning.  I'll  go  over  on  the  eight-ten  in  the 
morning  and  see  to  it.  But  you  never  wear  ready- 
made  things  and  it  would  be  a  pity  to  waste  money  that 
way.  Are  you  going  to  wear  a  veil  at  the  inquest  ?  " 

"Of  course  I  am.  Do  you  suppose  I  shall  submit 
to  being  stared  at  by  a  curious  mob  and  snapshotted  by 
reporters  ?  " 

"  That's  just  what  I  thought.  I'll  bring  back  a  smart 
hat  and  a  long  crepe  veil  with  me,  and  order  your 
widow's  outfit  from  one  of  the  big  shops ;  they'll  have  it 
over  in  time  for  the  funeral.  And  you  can  wear  your 
tailor  suit  to  the  inquest;  it  will  be  half  covered  by 
the  veil." 

"  What  a  good  idea !  "  said  Mrs.  Balfame  gratefully. 
"  You  are  too  kind." 


MRS.     BALFAME 

[ind?  Nothing!  I  just  love  to  shop  for  other 
z.  How  lucky  that  you  hadn't  bought  your  new 
r  suit.  It  might  have  been  blue." 
t  was  to  have  been  blue."  There  was  a  note  of 
t  in  Mrs.  Bal fame's  voice.  "  Don't  forget  to  buy 
NO  black  chiffon  blouses.  One  very  simple  for 
day;  the  other,  really  good.  And  something 
for  the  neck.  Of  course  I  wouldn't  wear  it  on 
reet ;  but  in  the  house  —  black  is  too  trying!  " 
father.  Trust  me.  Have  you  black  gloves  — 
;ssed  kid,  I  mean?  You  don't  want  to  look  like 
idertaker."  Mrs.  Bal  fame  nodded.  "  That's  all, 
k.  Send  me  a  line  if  you  think  of  something  else, 
it  run  and  take  Giffy  for  his  ride.  He's  all  broken 
)or  darling.  Wasn't  he  just  splendid  last  night  ?  " 
)lew  a  kiss  along  the  widow's  forehead  and  ran 
nth  a  light  step  that  caused  her  more  substantial 
Is  to  sigh  with  envy.  She,  too,  was  in  the  ma- 
ring  forties,  but  she  had  gone  into  training  at 
t 

guess  we'd  all  better  go."  Mrs.  Battle,  with  a 
m  dexterous  heave  of  her  armoured  bulk,  was  out 
ie  chair  and  on  her  feet.  "  Now,  try  to  sleep, 
e.  You  are  just  the  bravest  thing!  But  to-mor- 
\\i\\  be  trying.  Sam  Cummack  says  the  coroner 
;  hold  the  inquest  before  afternoon,  but  if  they  do 
four  veil  isn't  here,  I've  got  one  of  Ma's  packed 

in  camphor  that  I'll  get  out  for  you.  I'll  get  it 
o-night  and  have  it  airing  —  we  won't  take  any 
:es;  and  you  sha'n't  be  annoyed  by  the  vulgar 
us." 

)h,  thank  you!     But  that  is  not  the  only  ordeal, 
ven  more  trying  to  stay  in  the  house  all  these  days 


MRS.     BALFAME 


9 


—  in  this  room !     If  I  could  walk  in  the  grounds.     Bi 
I  suppose  those  reporters  are  everywhere." 

"  They  are  swarming,  simply  swarming.  And  th 
avenue  is  so  packed  \vith  automobiles  you  can't  navi 
gate.  People  have  come  from  all  over  the  countr 

—  some  from  New  York  and  Brooklyn." 

Mrs.  Balfame  curled  her  lip  with  disgust.  Morbi 
curiosity,  like  other  vulgarities,  was  incomprehensibl 
to  her.  Death,  no  matter  how  desired  or  how  accon 
plished,  should  inspire  hush  and  respect,  not  provid 
excitement  for  a  Sunday  afternoon. 

"  Let  us  hope  they  will  find  the  wretch  to-day,"  sh 
said  impatiently.     "  That  will  end  it,  for,  of  course, 
is  the  element  of  mystery  that  has  made  the  case  s 
notorious.     Is  there  no  clue?  " 

"  Not  the  ghost  of  one."  Mrs.  Cummack,  too,  wa 
adjusting  her  automobile  veil.  "  Sam's  on  the  job,- 
I'm  only  taking  him  out  for  an  hour  or  two ;  and  s< 
of  course,  are  the  police  —  hot.  But  he's  covered  hi 
tracks  so  far." 

"  If  it  is  a  he,"  whispered  Mrs.  Battle  to  Mrs.  Frev 
as  they  stole  softly  down  the  stairs.  "  What  about  the 
red-head,  or  that  telephone  girl  who  fainted?  The 
say  she  had  to  go  home  — 

"  Can  you  imagine  caring  enough  for  Dave  Ba 
fame —  Let's  get  out  of  this,  for  heaven's  sake,  c 
I'll  faint  right  here." 

The  atmosphere  was  as  depressing  as  the  dark  ir 
terior  of  the  house,  for  it  was  heavy  laden  with  th 
scent  of  flowers  and  death.  The  parlour  doors,  behin 
which  lay  David  Balfame,  embalmed  and  serene  in  hi 
casket,  were  closed,  but  hushed'  whisperings  came  fort 
like  the  rustling  of  funeral  wreaths  disturbed  by  th 


96  MRS.     BALFAME 

vapours  of  decay.  The  devoted  friends  of  the  widow 
burst  out  into  the  sunshine  almost  with  a  cry  of  re 
lief. 

Here  all  was  as  animated  as  a  county  fair.  The 
grounds  were  void,  save  by  patrolling  police,  but  the 
avenue  and  adjoining  streets  were  packed  with  every 
type  of  car  from  limousine  to  farmer's  runabout,  and 
many  more  people  were  afoot,  staring  at  the  house, 
venturing  as  near  the  hedge  as  they  dared,  to  inspect 
the  grove.  They  asked  questions,  answered  them,  of 
fered  theories,  all  in  a  breath,  and  without  the  slightest 
respect  for  any  opinion  save  their  own.  A  few  chil 
dren,  sucking  peppermint  sticks,  sat  on  the  hedge. 

"  Did  you  ever  ?  "  murmured  Mrs.  Frew  to  Mrs. 
Battle.  "Did  you  ever?"  She  shuddered  with  re 
fined  disgust,  but  felt  thrilled  to  her  marrow.  "  Just 
Enid's  luck !  "  was  her  auxiliary  but  silent  reflection. 


CHAPTER  XII 

AT  the  inquest  on  the  following  day,  Mrs.  Balfame, 
circumvested  in  crepe,  sat  between  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Cummack,  gracefully  erect,  and  without  even  a  nervous 
flutter  of  the  hands. 

When  called  upon  to  testify,  she  told  in  a  clear  low 
voice  the  meagre  story  already  known  to  her  friends 
and  by  this  time  the  common  property  of  Elsinore  and 
all  that  read  the  newspapers  of  the  State. 

The  coroner  released  her  as  quickly  as  possible,  and 
called  her  servant  to  the  stand.  Although  the  swelling 
in  Frieda's  face  had  subsided  somewhat  under  Dr. 
Anna's  repeated  ministrations,  the  tooth  still  throbbed ; 
and  she  also  was  released  after  announcing  resentfully 
that  she'd  seen  "  notings,"  heard  "  notings,"  and 
"  didn't  know  notings  "  about  the  murder  except  hav 
ing  to  get  up  and  make  coffee  when  she  was  like  to  die 
with  the  ache  in  her  tooth. 

There  was  no  one  else  to  testify,  except  Cummack, 
who  gave  the  hour,  about  a  quarter  or  ten  minutes  to 
eight,  when  the  deceased  had  left  his  house,  and  Mr. 
Gifning  and  his  two  guests,  who  testified  to  hearing 
the  sound  of  Balfame's  voice  raised  in  song,  followed 
a  moment  later  by  the  report  of  a  pistol.  They  also 
described  minutely  the  position  of  the  body  when  found. 
Indubitably  the  shot  had  been  fired  from  the  grove. 

The  staff  artists  were  forced  to  be  content  with  a 
black  sketch  of  a  very  long  widow,  who  held  her  head 

97 


98  MRS.     BALFAME 

high  and  emanated  an  air  of  chill  repose.  One  reporter, 
camera  set,  forced  his  way  to  her  side  as  she  was  about 
to  enter  Mrs.  Battle's  limousine  and  begged  her  plain 
tively  to  raise  her  veil;  but  he  might  as  well  as  have 
addressed  a  somnambulist;  Mrs.  Balfame  did  not  even 
snub  him. 

"  Why  should  they  want  a  picture  of  me  ?  "  she  asked 
Mrs.  Battle,  wonderingly.  "  It's  poor  Dave  that  is 
dead.  Whoever  heard  of  me  outside  of  Elsinore?  " 

"  I  guess  you  haven't  amused  yourself  reading  the 
papers.  You've  been  written  up  as  a  beauty  and  the 
intellectual  and  social  leader  of  Elsinore.  Some  dis 
tinction,  that !  The  public  is  mighty  interested  in  you 
all  over  the  State  and  will  be  for  several  days  yet,  no 
doubt.  Then  we'll  find  the  man  and  they'll  forget  all 
about  the  whole  affair  until  the  trial  comes  up." 

Mrs.  Balfame,  clad  in  full  weeds,  more  dignified, 
stately  and  unapproachable  than  ever,  ran  the  gauntlet 
of  staring  eyes  at  the  church  funeral,  apparently  un 
conscious  of  the  immense  crowd  of  women  that  had 
driven  over  from  every  township  in  Brabant  County. 
That  the  women  did  not  approve  of  her  haughty  head 
and  tearless  eyes,  brilliant  even  behind  the  heavy  crepe, 
would  have  concerned  her  little  if  she  had  known  it. 
Her  mind  was  concentrated  upon  the  future  moment 
when  this  series  of  hideous  ordeals  would  be  over  and 
she  could  re-enter  the  decent  seclusion  of  private  life. 

Mrs.  Balfame  may  have  had  her  faults,  but  a  vulgar 
complaisance  to  publicity  was  not  among  them. 

She  had  also  made  up  her  mind  sternly  not  to  feel 
happy,  not  to  rejoice  in  her  freedom,  not  to  make  a  plan 
for  the  future  until  her  husband  was  in  his  grave.  But 
all  during  that  long  service,  while  the  new  parson  dis^ 


MRS.     BALFAME  99 

coursed  unctuously  upon  the  virtues  and  eminence  of 
the  slain,  she  had  the  sensation  of  holding  her  breath. 

It  was  four  days  from  the  night  of  the  murder  be 
fore  she  consented  to  see  the  reporters.  Meanwhile 
every  suspected  person  had  proved  an  alibi,  including 
the  red-haired  Miss  Foxie  Bell,  and  the  indignant  and 
highly  respectable  Miss  Mamie  Russ,  who  officiated  at 
the  telephone.  She  had  known  the  deceased,  yes,  and 
once  or  twice  she  had  driven  out  to  one  of  the  road- 
houses  with  him,  where  a  number  of  her  friends  were 
indulging  in  a  quiet  Sunday  afternoon  tango,  but  she 
had  merely  looked  upon  him  as  a  kind  fatherly  sort  of 
person ;  and  at  the  hour  of  his  death  she  was  asleep,  as 
her  landlady  could  testify. 

Old  Dutch  had  indignantly  repudiated  the  charge  of 
employing  gunmen,  and  had  even  attended  the  funeral 
and  shed  tears.  Whatever  the  faults  of  the  deceased, 
they  were  not  of  a  nature  to  antagonise  permanently  the 
erring  members  of  his  own  sex.  Moreover,  he  had 
been  an  able  politician,  respected  of  his  enemies,  and 
was  now  glorified  by  his  cowardly  and  untimely  taking 
off. 

The  local  police  had  an  uneasy  suspicion  that  the  as 
sassin  was  one  of  their  "  pals  "  —  in  that  small  and 
democratic  community,  where  every  man  was  an  Elk 
from  the  banker  to  the  undertaker.  They  were  quite 
ready  to  drop  the  case,  loudly  ascribing  the  deed  to  an 
ordinary  housebreaker,  or  to  some  unknown  enemy 
from  out  the  impenetrable  rabbit  warrens  of  New  York 
City. 

The  newspaper  men  were  chagrined  and  desperate. 
The  Balfame  Case  had  proved  uncommonly  magnetic 
to  the  New  York  public.  They  had  done  their  best  to 


ioo  MRS.     BALFAME 

create  this  interest,  and  now  were  on  their  mettle  to 
"  make  good."  But  they  were  beginning  to  wish  they 
had  waited  for  at  least  a  lantern's  ray  at  the  end  of  the 
dark  perspective  before  exciting  the  public  with  descrip 
tions  of  the  winding  picturesque  old  street  of  the  an 
cient  village  of  Elsinore;  the  stately  old-time  residence 
at  its  head  which  had  housed  (in  more  or  less  discom 
fort)  three  generations  of  Bal fames,  the  sinister  grove 
of  trees  that  had  sheltered  the  dastardly  assassin,  the 
prominence  and  political  importance  of  David  Bal  fame 
who  had  inherited  this  ancestral  estate,  and  played 
among  those  trees  in  childhood;  his  unsuspecting  and 
vocal  return  at  an  early  hour  to  be  shot  down  at  his 
own  gate. 

All  this  appealed  acutely  to  a  public  which  makes 
the  fortune  of  the  sentimental  play,  the  "  crook  "  play, 
and  the  "  play  with  a  punch  and  a  mystery."  Here  was 
the  real  thing,  as  rural  as  the  childhood  of  many  of  the 
Greater  New  York  public  —  weary  of  black-hand  mur 
ders  and  anarchist  bombs  —  with  a  mystery  as  deep  as 
any  ever  invented  by  their  favourite  authors,  and  in  no 
remote  district  but  at  their  very  gates. 

If  anything  more  were  necessary  to  rivet  their  inter 
est,  there  was  the  handsome  and  elegant  (if  provincial) 
Mrs.  Balfame,  as  austere  as  a  Roman  matron,  as  chaste 
as  Diana,  as  decently  invisible  in  public  during  this  har 
rowing  ordeal  as  imported  crepe  could  make  her.  The 
men  reporters  had  dismissed  the  widow  with  a  para 
graph  of  personal  description,  but  the  newspaper 
women  had  filled  half  a  page  in  each  of  the  evening 
journals. 

The  press  had  given  the  public  at  least  two  columns 
a  day  of  the  Balfame  murder;  there  had  been  a  biog- 


MRS.     BALFAME 

raphy  of  every  suspect  in  turn,  and  there  had  been  the 
thrilling  episode  of  the  bloodhounds  turned  loose  upon 
that  trampled  enclosure.  But  no  road  led  anywhere, 
and  the  public,  baffled  for  the  moment,  but  still  hopeful, 
demanded  an  interview  with  the  interesting  widow. 

Of  course,  her  alibi  was  perfect,  but  all  felt  sure  that 
she  "  knew  something  about  it."  Her  unhappy  married 
life  was  now  common  property,  and  if  it  only  could  be 
proved  that  she  had  had  a  lover  —  but  the  newspapers 
as  has  been  said  were  discouraging  upon  this  point. 
Mrs.  Balfame  (quoting  the  young  men  this  time),  while 
amiable  and  kind  to  all,  was  cold  and  indifferent.  Men 
were  afraid  of  her.  The  New  York  detectives  had 
"  fine-tooth-combed "  Brabant  County  and  reported 
disgustedly  to  their  chief  that  she  was  "  just  one  of 
those  club  women ;  no  use  for  men  at  all." 

The  reporters,  however,  had  made  up  their  minds 
to  fix  the  crime,  if  possible,  upon  her.  They  would 
have  compromised  upon  the  young  servant,  but  Frieda, 
especially  with  her  face  framed  in  a  towel  stained 
brown,  and  her  eyes  swollen  above  the  wrenching 
agonies  of  an  ulcerated  tooth,  was  hopeless  material. 
Moreover,  they  were  convinced,  after  thorough  investi 
gation,  that  the  deceased's  gallantries,  while  sufficiently 
catholic,  had  not  run  to  serving  maids,  and  that  of  late 
particularly  he  had  loudly  hated  all  things  German. 

Regarding  Mrs.  Balfame  they  held  their  judgment 
in  reserve  until  they  met  and  talked  with  her ;  but  Brod- 
erick  had  extracted  the  miserable  details  of  her  life 
from  his  friend,  Alys  Crumley,  as  well  as  a  lively  de 
scription  of  the  scene  at  the  Country  Club;  they  believed 
they  could  bring  to  light  enough  to  base  a  sensational 
trial  upon,  whatever  the  verdict  of  the  jury. 


102  MRS.    BALFAME 

It  must  not  be  inferred  for  a  moment  that  these  bril 
liant  and  industrious  young  men  were  bloodthirsty. 
They  knew  that  if  Mrs.  Balfame  had  committed  the 
crime  and  could  be  induced  to  make  a  defiant  confes 
sion,  it  was  more  than  probable  that  she  would  go  scot 
free;  that  in  no  case  was  there  more  than  a  bare  pos 
sibility  of  a  woman  of  her  age,  position  and  appearance 
being  sent  to  the  chair.  But  it  is  these  alert,  resource 
ful,  ruthless  young  men  who  make  the  newspapers  we 
read  with  such  interest  twice  a  day ;  it  is  they  who  write 
the  columns  of  "  news  "  that  we  skip  if  dull  (with  a 
mental  reservation  to  change  our  newspaper),  or  de 
vour  without  a  thought  of  the  tireless  individual  ac 
tivities  that  re-supply  us  daily  with  our  strongest  im 
personal  interests.  Sometimes  a  trifle  more  sparkle 
or  vitality,  or  a  deeper  note,  will  wring  from  us  that 
facile  comment,  "  How  well  written !  "  without  a  pause 
to  reflect  that  mere  good  writing  never  made  a  news 
paper,  or  to  hazard  a  guess  that  behind  the  column  that 
thrilled  us  were  hours,  perhaps  weeks,  of  incessant  un 
ravelling  of  clues,  of  following  a  scent  in  the  dark,  with 
death  at  every  turn.  It  is  the  business  of  reporters 
to  furnish  news  of  vital  interest  to  a  pampered  public, 
and  as  so  large  a  part  of  it  is  furnished  to  them  by  the 
weaknesses  and  misdeeds  of  mankind,  what  wonder 
that  the  reporters  grow  cynical  and  make  no  bones 
about  providing  clues  that  will  lead,  at  the  least,  to 
many  columns  charged  with  suspense  and  sensational 
human  interest ! 

These  young  men  knew  the  moment  the  Balfame 
case  "  broke  "  that  it  was  big  with  possibilities ;  they 
scented  a  mystery  that  would  be  cleared  by  the  arrest 


MRS.     BALFAME  103 

of  no  local  politician;  and  they  knew  the  interlocking 
social  relationships  of  these  loyal  old  communities.  It 
was  "  up  to  them "  to  solve  the  mystery,  and  by  a 
process  of  elimination,  spurred  by  their  own  desire  to 
give  the  public  the  best  the  market  afforded,  they  ar 
rived  at  Mrs.  Balfame. 

Within  forty-eight  hours  they  were  hot  on  her  trail. 
Among  other  things,  they  discovered  that  she  was  an 
expert  shot  at  a  target ;  but  did  she  keep  a  pistol  in  the 
house?  She  had  used  one,  kept  for  target  purpose, 
out  at  the  Country  Club,  and  it  was  impossible  to  verify 
the  rumor  that  in  common  with  many  another,  she  had 
one  in  the  house  as  a  protection  against  burglars  and 
tramps. 

At  their  instigation,  Phipps,  the  local  chief  of  police, 
had  reluctantly  consented  to  interrogate  her  on  this 
point  (a  mere  matter  of  form,  he  assured  her),  and 
she  had  replied  blandly  that  she  never  had  possessed  a 
pistol.  The  chief  apologised  and  withdrew.  He  was 
of  a  respectable  Brabant  family  himself,  and  was  hor 
rified  that  a  member  of  the  good  old  order  should  even 
be  brushed  by  the  wing  of  suspicion.  Being  a  quiet 
family  man  and  a  Republican  to  boot,  he  had  never  ap 
proved  of  Dave  Balfame,  and  had  only  refrained  from 
arresting  him  upon  more  than  one  occasion  —  notably 
a  week  or  two  since  when  he  had  publicly  blacked  the 
eye  of  Miss  Billy  Gump  —  out  of  deference  to  the  good 
name  of  Elsinore;  and  after  all,  they  were  both  Elks 
and  had  spun  many  a  yarn  in  the  comfortable  club- 
rooms.  Inheritance,  circumstances,  and  a  fine  common 
contempt  for  the  inferior  brands  of  whiskey,  had  made 
them  "  stand  in  together,  whatever  happened."  The 


104  MRS.     BALFAME 

chief  had  no  love  for  Mrs.  Balfame,  for  she  had  frozen 
him  too  often,  but  she  was  the  pride  of  Elsinore  and 
he  was  alert  to  defend  her. 

It  had  never  occurred  to  Mrs.  Balfame  that  she  would 
incur  even  a  passing  suspicion,  and  she  had  left  the 
pistol  in  the  pocket  of  her  automobile  coat.  Imme 
diately  after  the  visit  of  the  chief  of  police  she  took  the 
pistol  into  the  sewing-room,  locked  the  door,  covered 
the  keyhole,  and  buried  the  weapon  in  the  depths  of  an 
old  sofa.  As  her  large  strong  fingers  had  mended 
furniture  many  times,  no  one  would  suspect  that  this 
ancient  piece  (dating  back  to  the  first  Balfame)  had 
been  tampered  with.  She  performed  the  operation 
with  haughty  reluctance,  but  the  instinct  of  self-preser 
vation  abides  in  the  proudest  souls,  and  Mrs.  Balfame 
had  the  wit  to  realise  that  it  was  by  far  the  better  part 
of  valour. 

The  shooting  occurred  on  Saturday  night.  By 
Wednesday  all  the  horrors  of  the  criminal  episode  were 
over  and  she  felt  as  young  as  she  looked,  and  at  liberty 
to  begin  life  again,  a  free  and  happy  woman.  Her 
mourning  was  perfect. 

She  made  up  her  mind  to  see  the  newspaper  men  and 
have  done  with  it.  They  had  haunted  the  grounds  — 
no  patrols  could  keep  them  out  —  sat  on  the  doorstep, 
forced  their  way  into  the  kitchen,  and  rung  the  front 
door-bell  so  frequently  that  hourly  she  expected  the 
scowling  Frieda  to  give  notice.  Mr.  Cummack  told 
her  repeatedly  that  she  might  as  well  give  in  first  as 
last  and  she  finally  agreed  with  him. 

It  was  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  they  were 
admitted  to  the  spacious  old-fashioned  parlour  with  its 
incongruous  modern  notes. 


MRS.     BALFAME  105 

Like  many  women,  Mrs.  Balfame  had  an  admirable 
taste  in  dress,  so  long  as  she  marched  with  the  conven 
tions,  but  neither  the  imagination  nor  the  training  to 
create  the  notable  room.  Long  since  she  had  banished 
the  old  "  body  brussels  "  carpet  and  substituted  rugs 
subdued  in  colour  if  commonplace  in  design.  The 
plush  "  set "  had  not  gone  to  the  auction  room,  how 
ever,  but  had  been  reupholstered  with  a  serviceable 
"  tapestry  covering."  A  what-not  still  stood  in  one  cor 
ner,  and  both  centre-table  and  mantel  were  covered 
with  marble,  although  the  wax  works  that  once  em 
bellished  them  were  now  in  the  garret.  The  wall  paper, 
which  had  been  put  on  the  year  before,  was  a  neutral 
pale  brown.  Nevertheless,  it  was  a  homelike  room,  for 
there  were  two  rocking-chairs  and  three  easy  chairs; 
and  on  a  small  side-table  was  Mrs.  Balfame's  work- 
basket.  On  the  marble  centre-table  was  a  most  artistic 
lamp.  The  curtains  matched  the  furniture. 

There  were  ten  reporters  from  New  York,  two  from 
Brooklyn,  three  from  Brabant  County,  and  four  cor 
respondents.  Word  had  been  passed  during  the  morn 
ing  that  Mrs.  Balfame  would  see  the  newspaper  men, 
and  they  were  there  in  force ;  those  that  were  not  "  on 
the  job  all  the  time  "  having  loyally  been  notified  by 
those  that  were.  But  they  had  stolen  a  march  on  the 
women.  Not  a  "  sob-sister  "  was  in  that  intent  file, 
led  by  James  Broderick  of  The  New  York  Morning 
News,  that  entered  the  Balfame  house  and  parlour  on 
Wednesday  at  five  o'clock. 

Frieda  had  announced  that  her  mistress  would  be 
"down  soon,"  and  Mr.  Broderick  immediately  drew 
the  curtains  back  from  the  four  long  windows,  and 
placed  a  comfortable  chair  for  Mrs.  Balfame  in  a  posi- 


io6  MRS.     BALFAME 

tion  where  she  would  face  both  the  light  and  her  VISF 
tors.  It  was  not  the  first  stage  that  the  astute  Mr. 
Broderick  had  set;  and  whenever  he  was  on  a  case  he 
fell  naturally  into  the  position  of  leader;  not  only  had 
he  the  most  alert  and  driving,  the  most  resourceful  and 
penetrative  mind,  but  his  good  looks  and  suave  manner 
inspired  confidence  in  the  victim,  and  led  him  insen 
sibly  into  damaging  admissions.  He  was  a  tall  slim 
young  man,  a  graduate  of  Princeton,  not  yet  thirty, 
with  a  regular  face  and  \varm  colouring,  and  an  expres 
sion  so  pleasant  that  the  keenness  of  his  eyes  passed 
unnoted.  In  general  equipment  and  dress  he  was 
typical  of  his  kind,  unless  they  took  to  drink  and  grew 
slovenly;  but  his  more  emphatic  endowment  enabled 
him  to  take  the  lead  among  a  class  of  men  whom  he  re 
spected  too  thoroughly  to  antagonise  with  arrogance. 

"  Late  —  to  make  an  impression !  "  he  growled,  but 
young  Ryder  Bruce  of  the  evening  edition  of  his  paper 
nudged  him.  Mrs.  Balfame  was  on  the  staircase  op 
posite  the  parlour  doors. 

The  young  men  stood  up  and  watched  her  as  she 
slowly  descended,  her  black  dress  clinging  to  her  tall 
rather  rigid  figure,  her  head  high,  her  profile  as  calm  as 
marble,  her  eye  as  devoid  of  expression  as  if  awaiting 
the  click  of  the  camera. 

The  reporters  were  prejudiced  on  the  spot,  so  impa 
tient  are  newspaper  men  of  any  sort  of  pose  or  attempt 
to  impress  them.  As  she  entered  the  room  she  greeted 
them  pleasantly,  looking  straight  at  them  with  her  large 
cold  eyes,  and  allowed  herself  to  be  conducted  to  a  chair 
by  the  polite  Mr.  Broderick. 

She  knew  that  in  her  high  unrelieved  black  she  looked 
older  than  common,  but  this  was  a  deliberately  calcu- 


MRS.     BALFAME  107 

lated  effect.  She  was  not  as  adroit  as  she  would  have 
been  after  recurrent  experiences  with  the  press,  but  in 
stinct  warned  her  to  look  the  dignified  middle-aged 
widow,  quite  above  the  coquetry  of  the  bare  throat  of 
fashion,  or  of  tempering  her  weeds  with  soft  white 
lawn. 

As  Mr.  Broderick  made  a  little  speech  of  gratitude 
for  her  gracious  reception  of  the  press,  she  appraised 
her  guests.  The  greater  number  were  well-groomed, 
well-dressed,  well-bred  in  effect,  very  sure  of  them 
selves;  altogether  a  striking  contrast  to  the  local  re 
porters  that  had  come  in  on  their  heels. 

She  answered  Mr.  Broderick  diffidently :  "  I  have 
never  been  interviewed.  I  am  afraid  you  will  hardly 
find  —  what  do  you  call  it  ?  —  a  story  ?  —  in  me." 

"  We  don't  wish  to  be  too  personal,"  he  said  gently, 
"  but  the  public  is  tremendously  interested  in  this  case, 
and  more  particularly  in  you.  It  isn't  always  that  it 
takes  an  interest  in  the  wife  of  a  murdered  man  —  but 
—  well,  you  see,  you  are  such  a  personality  in  this  com 
munity.  We  really  must  have  an  interesting  inter 
view."  He  smiled  at  her  with  a  charming  expression 
of  masculine  indulgence  that  made  her  own  eyes  soften. 
"  You  see  —  don't  you  —  we  hate  to  intrude  —  but  — 
we  understand  that  you  had  a  serious  quarrel  with  your 
husband  on  the  last  day  of  his  life.  Would  you  mind 
telling  us  what  you  did  after  leaving  the  Country 
Club?" 

She  gave  him  a  frozen  stare,  but  recalled  Mr.  Cum- 
mack's  warning  not  to  take  offence  —  "  for  remember 
that  these  men  have  their  living  to  get,  and  if  they  fall 
down  on  their  job  they  don't  get  it.  Blame  their  paper, 
not  them." 


io8  MRS.     BALFAME 

"  That  is  a  surprising  question,"  she  said  sweetly. 
"  Do  you  expect  me  to  answer  it?  " 

"Why  not?  Of  course  you  read  the  newspapers. 
You  know  we  have  told  the  public  of  the  scene  at  the 
clubhouse  already  —  and  with  no  detriment  to  you ! 
It  was  a  very  dramatic  scene,  and  every  moment  that 
you  passed  from  that  time  until  Mr.  Balfame  fell  at  his 
gate  will  be  of  the  most  absorbing  interest  to  the  public. 
In  fact,  they  will  eat  it  up." 

Mrs.  Balfame  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "  As  a  mat 
ter  of  fact  I  have  not  read  a  newspaper  since  the — " 
She  set  her  lips  and  her  eyes  grew  hard  —  "  the  crime. 
I  know  you  have  written  a  great  deal  about  it,  but  it 
hasn't  interested  me.  Well  —  Dr.  Anna  Steuer  drove 
me  home,  and  shortly  after  I  went  up  to  my  room  — " 

"  Pardon  me ;  let  us  take  things  in  their  turn.  You 
took  a  box  of  sardines  and  some  bread  from  the  pantry, 
did  you  not  ?  " 

"  I  did."  Mrs.  Balfame's  tones  were  both  puzzled 
and  bored. 

"  And  then  you  were  interrupted."  As  she  raised 
her  eyebrows,  he  continued.  "  The  appearance  of  the 
sardine  can  indicated  that." 

She  gave  him  a  brilliant  smile,  her  substitute  for  the 
average  woman's  merry  laugh.  "  You  are  teaching  me 
how  they  write  those  intricate  detective  tales  my  hus 
band  was  so  fond  of.  It  is  true  that  I  was  interrupted, 
but  it  is  equally  true  that  I  should  probably  have  left 
the  can  as  you  found  it  in  any  case,  for  I  soon  realised 
that  I  was  not  hungry.  I  had  had  sandwiches  at  the 
club,  and  although  I  always  think  it  best  to  eat  some 
thing  before  retiring,  I  was  hardly  hungry  enough  for 
sardines  — " 


MRS.     BALFAME  109 


:<  You  ate  sandwiches  at  the  club  ?  I  have  been  out 
there  once  or  twice  and  never  saw  —  I  was  under  the 
impression  that  during  the  afternoon  the  young  people 
danced  and  the  matrons  played  bridge  before  an  early 
dinner." 

"  Did  you  ? "  Mrs.  Balf ame's  eyes  and  tones 
abashed  even  Mr.  Broderick,  and  he  tacked  hastily: 
"  Oh,  well,  that  is  immaterial,  as  the  lawyers  say. 
And  of  course  you  ladies  may  have  sandwiches  served 
in  the  bridge  rooms.  May  I  ask  what  interrupted 
you?" 

"  My  husband  telephoned  from  Mr.  Cummack's 
house  that  he  was  obliged  to  go  to  Albany  at  once  and 
asked  me  to  pack  his  suitcase." 

"  Yes,  we  have  seen  the  suitcase.  You  suggested, 
did  you  not  —  over  the  telephone  —  making  him  a 
glass  of  lemonade  with  aromatic  and  bromide  in  it?  " 

Mrs.  Balfame  experienced  an  obscure  thrill  of  alarm, 
but  her  haughty  stare  betrayed  nothing.  One  of  the 
reporters  whose  "  job  "  it  was  to  watch  her  hands,  noted 
that  they  curved  rigidly.  "  And  may  I  ask  how  you 
found  that  out?  Really,  I  think  I  feel  even  more 
curiosity  than  you  do." 

"  He  told  it  to  Cummack  and  the  other  men  present 
as  a  good  joke,  adding  that  you  knew  your  business." 

"  I  did.  The  matter  had  passed  entirely  out  of  my 
mind.  More  momentous  things  have  happened  since ! 
Well  —  I  made  the  glass  of  lemonade  and  left  it  on  the 
dining-room  table ;  then  I  went  upstairs  and  packed  his 
suitcase  — " 

"  One  moment.  What  became  of  that  glass  of  lem 
onade?  No  one  remembers  having  seen  it,  although 
I  have  made  very  particular  inquiries," 


no  MRS.     BALFAME 

Mrs.  Balfame  by  this  time  was  quite  cold,  but  her 
brain  was  working  almost  as  quickly  as  Mr.  Broder- 
ick's.  She  uncurved  her  fingers  and  smiled.  But  her 
keen  brain-sword  had  one  edge  only ;  the  other  was  dull 
with  inexperience.  She  knew  nothing  of  the  vast  prac 
tice  of  newspaper  men  in  detecting  the  lie. 

"Oh  —  I  drank  it  myself."  She  had  drawn  her 
brows  for  a  moment  as  if  in  an  effort  of  memory. 
"When  I  heard  the  noise  outside  —  when  I  heard  them 
say  '  coroner  '  —  and  realised  that  something  dreadful 
had  happened,  I  ran  downstairs.  Then  I  suddenly  felt 
faint  and  remembered  the  lemonade  with  the  aromatic 
spirits  of  ammonia  and  bromide  in  it.  I  ran  into  the 
dining-room  and  drank  it — fortunately!" 

"  And  what  became  of  the  glass  ?  " 

"  Oh !  "  Mrs.  Balfame  was  now  righteously  indig 
nant.  "  How  do  I  know  ?  Or  any  one  else  ?  Frieda, 
soon  after,  began  to  make  coffee  by  the  quart  —  and 
I  don't  doubt  whisky  was  brought  round  from  the  Elks. 
Who  could  have  noticed  a  glass  more  or  less  ?  " 

"  Frieda  swears  she  never  saw  it." 

"  She  has  the  worst  memory  of  any  servant  I  ever 
had,  and  that  is  saying  a  good  deal." 

Mr.  Broderick  regarded  her  with  admiration.  He 
distrusted  her  more  every  moment,  but  he  had  realised 
at  once  that  he  had  no  ordinary  woman  to  deal  with, 
and  he  rejoiced  in  the  clash  of  wits. 

The  other  young  men  were  sitting  forward,  almost 
breathless,  and  Mrs.  Balfame  was  now  fully  alive  to  the 
danger  of  her  position.  But  all  sensation  of  fear  had 
left  her.  All  the  iron  in  her  nature  fused  in  the 
crucible  of  those  terrible  moments  and  came  forth  finely 
tempered  steel. 


MRS.     BALFAME  ill 

"  Anything  more  ?  " 

"  Oh  —  ah  —  yes.  Would  you  mind  telling  us  what 
you  did  after  you  had  packed  the  suitcase  and  brought 
it  downstairs?  " 

"  I  went  up  to  my  room  and  began  to  undress  for 
bed." 

"  But  that  must  have  been  quite  fifteen  minutes  be 
fore  Mr.  Balfame's  return.  He  walked  from  Cum- 
mack's  house,  which  is  about  a  mile  from  here.  It  was 
noticed  that  you  merely  had  taken  your  dress  off. 
Would  you  not  have  had  time  to  get  into  bed?  " 

"  If  I  were  a  man.  But  I  had  my  hair  to  brush  — 
with  fifty  strokes;  and  —  a  little  nightly  massage,  if 
you  will  have  it.  Besides,  I  had  intended  to  go  down 
and  lock  the  front  door  after  my  husband  had 
left." 

"  Ah !  "  The  admiration  of  the  young  men  mounted 
higher.  They  disliked  her  coldly,  if  only  for  that 
lack  of  sex-magnetism,  which  men,  particularly  young 
men,  naive  in  their  extensive  surface  psychology,  take 
as  a  personal  affront.  They  did  not  believe  a  word  she 
said,  and  they  did  not  give  her  and  her  possible  fate  a 
throb  of  sympathy,  but  they  generously  pronounced  her 
"  a  wonder." 

Mr.  Broderick  took  a  chance  shot.  "  And  did  you 
not  during  that  time  look  out  of  the  window  —  toward 
the  grove  ?  " 

Mrs.  Balfame  hesitated  the  fraction  of  a  minute, 
then  wisely  returned  to  her  know-nothing  policy. 
"  Why  should  I  ?  Certainly  not.  I  heard  no  sound 
out  there.  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  examining  the 
grounds  from  my  window  at  night.  It  is  enough  to  go 
through  the  lower  rooms  before  I  lock  up." 


112  MRS.     BALFAME 

"  But  your  window  was  dark  when  the  men  ran  over 
from  Gifning's  after  hearing  the  shot.  They  remem 
ber  that.  Do  you  brush  your  hair  —  and  —  and  mas 
sage  in  the  dark  ?  " 

Mrs.  Balfame  sat  back  in  her  chair  with  the  resigned 
air  of  the  victim  who  expects  an  interview  with  inquisi 
tive  newspaper  men  to  last  all  night.  "  No.  But  I 
sometimes  sit  in  the  dark.  I  told  you  that  I  intended 
to  sit  up  —  partly  dressed  —  until  my  husband  had 
gone.  I  did  not  feel  like  reading,  and  my  eyes  were 
tired.  As  you  know  so  much,  you  may  have  guessed 
that  I  cried  a  little  after  that  trying  afternoon.  I  do 
not  often  cry,  and  my  eyes  stung/* 

"  But  you  had  forgiven  your  husband  ?  " 

"  I  had  forgiven  him  many  times  before.  I  infer 
that  you  know  that  also." 

"  Mrs.  Balfame,  is  it  not  true  that  about  two  years 
ago  you  contemplated  obtaining  a  divorce  ?  " 

This  time  her  eyes  flashed  with  anger.  "  I  see  that 
my  kind  friends  have  been  gossiping.  You  would  seem 
to  have  interviewed  everybody  in  town." 

"  Pretty  nearly.  But  you  don't  seem  to  realise  that 
Elsinore  —  Brabant  County,  for  that  matter  —  has 
talked  of  nothing  else  but  this  case  for  the  last  four 
days/' 

"  I  did  think  of  a  divorce  for  a  short  time,  but  I 
never  mentioned  it  to  him,  and  as  soon  as  I  thought  it 
all  out  I  dismissed  the  idea.  In  the  first  place,  divorce 
is  against  the  principles  of  the  school  in  which  I  was 
brought  up,  and  in  the  second  Mr.  Balfame  was  a  good 
husband  in  his  way.  Every  woman  has  some  sort  of  a 
heavy  cross  to  bear,  and  I  guess  mine  was  lighter  than 
most.  The  trouble  is,  we  American  women  expect  too 


MRS.     BALFAME  113 

much.     I  dismissed  the  subject  so  completely  from  my 
mind  that  I  had  practically  forgotten  it." 

"  Ah  —  yes  —  we  thought  you  might  have  seen  some 
one  lurking  in  the  grove  and  gone  down  to  investigate." 
This  was  another  chance  shot.  He  was  hoping  for  a 
"  lead." 

Mrs.  Balfame  thought  him  inspired. 

For  the  moment  the  cold  brilliant  eyes  of  the  woman 
and  the  keen  contracted  eyes  of  the  reporter  met  and 
clashed.  Then  Mrs.  Balfame  displayed  her  teeth  in 
her  sweet  and  charming  smile.  "  What  a  truly  mascu 
line  inference.  You  don't  know  me.  If  I  had  seen 
anything  I  should  have  flown  to  the  telephone  and 
called  the  police." 

"  You  look  indomitable,"  murmured  Mr.  Broderick. 
"  But  will  you  tell  us  how  it  happened  that  you  did  not 
hear  the  shot  ?  The  men  down  at  Gifning's  did." 

'  They  were  standing  on  the  porch,  and  I  think  now 
that  I  did  hear  the  shot.  But  my  windows  were  closed. 
I  hear  tires  burst  constantly.  And  that  was  Saturday 
night.  The  machines  turn  off  just  below  our  gate  into 
Dawbarn  Street,  especially  if  they  are  bound  for  Beryl 
Myrtle's  road  house." 

"  True."  Broderick  leaned  forward,  staring  at  the 
carpet.  He  permitted  the  silence  to  last  quite  a  minute. 
Even  Mrs.  Balfame,  who  had  congratulated  herself  that 
the  inquisition  must  be  nearly  over,  stirred  uneasily, 
so  sinister  was  that  silence. 

The  other  men  knew  the  Broderick  method  too  well 
to  spoil  one  of  his  designs;  they  sat  in  expectant  still 
ness  and  turned  upon  Mrs.  Balfame  a  battery  of  eyes. 

Suddenly  Broderick  raised  his  head  and  his  sharp 
boring  gaze  darted  into  hers.  "  I  had  not  fully  in- 


114  MRS.     BALFAME 

tended  to  tell  you  of  a  discovery  made  by  one  of  us  yes 
terday.  We  have  told  no  one  as  yet  —  waiting  for  just 
the  right  moment  to  publish  it.  But  I  think  I'll  tell 
you.  There  is  evidence  that  two  revolvers  were  fired 
that  night.  One  killed  David  Balfame,  and  a  bullet 
from  the  other  penetrated  the  tree  before  the  house  and 
slightly  to  the  right  of  where  he  must  have  stood  for  a 
moment.  Bruce  here  dug  it  out.  Now,  not  only  did 
the  men  at  Gifning's  not  hear  two  shots  —  indicating 
that  they  were  fired  simultaneously  —  but  one  bullet 
came  from  a  .38  and  the  other  from  a  .41." 

Mrs.  Balfame  stood  up.  "  Really,  gentlemen,  I  did 
not  consent  to  see  you  in  order  to  help  you  solve  rid 
dles.  But  possibly  you  know  better  than  I  that  gunmen 
generally  travel  in  pairs.  I  am  convinced  that  my  hus 
band  — "  (they  applauded  her  for  not  saying  "  my  poor 
husband  ")  "  was  killed  by  one  of  those  creatures,  hired 
by  his  political  enemies.  Unless  I  can  tell  you  some 
thing  more  of  interest  —  if,  indeed,  you  have  found 
anything  to  interest  the  great  New  York  public  in  this 
interview  —  I  will  ask  you  to  excuse  me." 

The  young  men  were  politely  on  their  feet.  "  And 
you  have  no  pistol  —  nor  ever  had  ?  " 

She  laughed  outright.  "  Are  you  trying  to  fasten 
the  crime  on  me?  " 

"Oh,  no,  indeed.  Only,  in  a  case  like  this,  one 
leaves  no  stone  unturned  —  I  hope  you  do  not  think  we 
are  rude." 

"  I  only  just  realise  that  quite  the  most  polite  young 
men  I  have  ever  met  have  been  hoping  to  make  me  in 
criminate  myself.  If  I  had  not  been  so  dense  I  should 
have  dismissed  you  long  since.  Good  night/' 

And,  once  more  looking  human  in  her  just  indigna- 


MRS.     BALFAME  115 

tion,  she  lifted  her  proud  head  and  swept  out  of  the 
room. 

The  young  men  left  the  house  and  adjourned  to  a 
private  room  in  the  rear  of  their  favourite  saloon.  For 
twenty  minutes  they  rehearsed  the  interview  carefully, 
those  that  had  taken  notes  correcting  any  lapses  of 
memory  on  the  part  of  those  that  had  elected  to  watch 
as  well  as  listen. 

Broderick  and  many  of  the  men  were  firmly  of  the 
opinion  that  Mrs.  Balfame  had  committed  the  crime; 
others  believed  that  she  was  shielding  some  one  else; 
the  less  experienced  were  equally  positive  that  no  guilty 
woman  taken  off  her  guard  repeatedly,  as  she  had  been, 
could  "  put  it  over  "  like  that.  She  had  "  talked  and 
acted  like  an  innocent  woman." 

"  She  acted,  all  right,"  said  Broderick.  "  I  for  one 
am  convinced  that  she  did  it.  But  \vhether  she  did  or 
didn't,  she's  got  to  be  indicted  and  tried.  This  case, 
boys,  is  too  big  to  throw  away  —  too  damned  big ;  and 
she's  already  a  personality  to  the  public.  She's  the 
only  one  we  have  the  ghost  of  a  chance  with ;  the  only 
one  whose  arrest  and  trial  would  keep  the  interest 
going—" 

k  But  say !  "  It  was  the  youngest  reporter  that  in 
terrupted.  "  I  call  it  lowdown  to  fasten  a  crime  on  a 
possibly  innocent  woman  —  a  lady  —  keep  her  in  jail 
for  months;  try  her  for  murder!  Why,  even  if  she 
were  acquitted,  she  would  carry  the  stigma  through 
life." 

"  Don't  get  sentimental,  sonny,"  said  Broderick  pa 
tiently.  "  Sentiment  is  to  the  vanquished  in  this  game. 
(When  you've  been  it  as  long  as  the  rest  of  us  you'll 
know  that  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  the  real  solution 


ii6  MRS.     BALFAME 

of  any  mystery  is  the  simplest.  Balfame  drank.  He 
had  a  violent  temper  when  drunk.  He  was  a  dog  at 
best  She  must  have  hated  him.  Look  at  her.  We 
have  reason  to  believe  that  she  did  hate  him  and  that 
her  friends  knew  it.  She  thought  of  divorce  two  years 
ago.  Gave  it  up  because  she  was  afraid  of  losing  her 
leadership  in  this  provincial  hole.  Look  at  her.  She 
is  as  proud  as  Lucifer.  And  as  hard  as  nails.  There 
had  been  an  ugly  scene  at  the  club  that  afternoon.  He 
mortified  her  publicly.  She  was  so  overcome  she  had 
to  leave.  I've  a  hunch  she  poisoned  that  lemonade  and 
got  it  out  of  the  way  in  time.  She's  the  sort  that  would 
think  of  nearly  everything.  Not  quite,  of  course. 
Otherwise  she  would  never  have  invented  on  the  spur 
of  the  moment  that  story  about  drinking  it  herself; 
she'd  have  had  the  assumption  on  tap  that  one  of  the 
neighbours  had  drunk  it.  That  complication,  however, 
is  yet  to  prove.  It  merely  points  a  finger  at  her  — 
straight;  what  we've  got  to  prove  and  prove  quick  is 
that  she  was  out  of  doors  when  that  shot  was  fired  — " 

"  Would  you  like  to  see  her  in  the  chair  ?  "  gasped 
young  Loring. 

"  Good  Lord,  no.  Not  the  least  danger.  Women 
of  that  sort  don't  go  to  the  chair.  If  she  even  got  a 
term,  I'd  head  a  petition  to  let  her  out,  for  she's  a  dead 
game  sport,  and  I'm  only  after  good  front  page  stuff." 
He  turned  to  Ryder  Bruce  of  the  evening  edition  of 
his  newspaper.  "  You  make  love  to  that  German  hired 
girl.  She  hates  us  all,  for  we  represent  the  real  Ameri 
can  press  —  that  hasn't  a  hyphen  in  it.  I  sensed  that. 
And  I  don't  believe  she's  all  the  fool  she  looks.  I  be 
lieve  she  can  tell  something  —  few  servants  that  can't 
—  and  that  she  only  pretended  at  the  inquest  that  she 


MRS.     BALFAME  117 

knew  nothing  because  she  was  nearly  dead  with  pain 
and  wanted  it  over.  Well,  she  had  the  tooth  out  this 
morning,  and  at  least  she  isn't  quite  as  hideous  as  she 
was;  so  go  to  it,  old  boy.  Get  'round  her  and  do  it 
quick.  Use  money  if  necessary.  There's  not  a  day 
to  lose.  Find  out  what  she  wants  most  —  probably  it's 
to  send  her  sweetheart  at  the  front  something  more  sub 
stantial  than  mitts  and  bands.  Got  me?  " 

"  I  get  you,"  said  young  Bruce  gloomily.  "  You've 
picked  me  out  because  I'm  blond  and  round  faced  and 
can  pass  myself  off  as  a  German.  I  wish  I'd  been  born 
an  Italian.  Nice  job,  making  love  to  that.  But  I'll 
do  it." 

"  Good  boy.  Well,  s'long.  I'm  off  on  a  trail  of  my 
own.  I'll  report  later.  May  be  nothing  in  it." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

B  RODERICK  walked  slowly  toward  Elsinore 
Avenue,  sounding  his  memory  for  certain  fugi 
tive  impressions,  his  active  mind  at  the  same  time  cast 
ing  about  for  the  current  which  would  connect  them. 

He  looked  at  his  watch.  He  was  to  dine  with  the 
Crumley s  at  seven  and  it  lacked  but  ten  minutes  of 
the  hour ;  nevertheless  he  walked  more  slowly  still,  his 
eyes  staring  at  the  ground,  his  brow  channeled. 

On  Sunday  afternoon  he  had  spent  two  hours  with 
Alys  Crumley.  At  first  she  had  been  reluctant  to  talk 
of  any  but  the  salient  phases  of  the  murder,  but  being 
appealed  to  as  a  "  good  old  pal  "  and  reminded  that  real 
newspaper  people  stood  together,  she  finally  had  de 
scribed  the  scene  at  the  Country  Club  on  the  afternoon 
preceding  Bal  fame's  death,  and  shown  him  the  draw 
ing  she  had  had  the  superior  presence  of  mind  to  make. 
Broderick  had  examined  every  detail  of  that  rapid  but 
demonstrative  sketch :  the  burly  form  at  the  head  of  the 
room,  his  condition  indicated  by  an  angle  of  the 
shoulders  and  a  deft  exaggeration  of  feature  which  re 
called  the  facile  art  of  the  cartoonist ;  the  strained  forms 
of  the  men  surrounding  him;  Mrs.  Balfame  heading 
down  the  room,  her  face  set  and  terrible ;  the  groups  of 
women  and  girls  in  attitudes  expressive  of  alarm  or 
disgust. 

But  when  he  made  as  if  to  put  the  sketch  in  his  pocket 
she  had  snatched  it  from  him,  and  he  merely  had 

1x8 


MRS.     BALFAME  119 

shrugged  his  shoulders,  confident  that  he  could  induce 
her  to  give  it  up  should  he  really  need  it. 

He  had  questioned  her  regarding  the  scene  until  its 
outlines  were  as  firm  in  his  mind  as  in  her  own.  But 
there  had  been  something  else  —  some  impression,  not 
obviously  linked  with  the  case :  It  was  for  that  impres 
sion  that  he  sounded  his  admirable  memory;  and  in  a 
moment  he  found  it  and  stopped  with  a  smothered  ex 
clamation. 

He  had  complimented  her  on  the  excellent  likeness  of 
Dwight  Rush,  whom  he  knew  and  liked,  and  remarked 
quite  naturally  that  he  might  have  sat  for  her  a  num 
ber  of  times.  The  dusky  pink  had  mounted  to  her  hair, 
but  she  had  replied  carelessly  that  Rush  was  "  a  com 
mon  enough  type." 

Possibly  Broderick  would  have  forgotten  the  blush 
had  it  not  have  been  for  the  swift  change  of  expression 
in  her  eyes :  a  certain  fear  followed  by  a  concentrated 
renitence ;  and  at  the  same  moment  he  had  remembered 
that  he  had  met  Rush  once  or  twice  at  the  Crumleys' 
during  the  summer  and  thought  him  quite  the  favoured 
guest. 

Driven  only  by  a  mild  personal  curiosity,  he  had 
asked  her  how  she  liked  Rush  and  if  she  saw  much  of 
him;  he  recalled  that  she  had  answered  with  an  elab 
oration  of  indifference  that  she  hadn't  seen  him  for  ages 
and  took  no  interest  in  him  whatever. 

Then  Broderick  had  drawn  her  on  to  talk  of  Mrs. 
Balfame.  Yes,  in  common  with  all  Elsinore  that 
counted,  she  admired  Mrs.  Balfame,  although  she  be 
lieved  that  no  one  really  knew  her,  that  she  uncon 
sciously  lived  among-  the  surfaces  of  her  nature.  Her 
face  as  she  marched  down  the  clubroom  that  day,  and 


120  MRS.     BALFAME 

its  curious  sudden  transformation  on  that  other  day 
at  the  Friday  Club  when  her  thoughts  so  plainly  had 
drifted  far  from  the  platitudinous  speakers,  indicated  to 
Miss  Crumley's  temperamental  mind  "  depths  and  pos 
sibly  tragic  possibilities.'' 

It  was  patent  to  Mr.  Broderick's  own  mind  that  her 
suspicions  had  not  lighted  for  a  moment  on  the  dead 
man's  widow,  but  it  also  transpired  in  the  course  of  the 
conversation  that  the  young  artist  who  had  so  "  loved  to 
sketch  "  the  Star  of  Elsinore  had  suffered  a  long  drop 
in  personal  enthusiasm.  Pressed  astutely,  she  had  re 
marked  that  she  guessed  she  was  as  broad-minded  as 
anybody,  especially  since  her  year  on  the  New  York 
press,  but  she  did  not  approve  of  married  women  claim 
ing  a  right  to  share  in  the  Great  Game  designed  by  Na 
ture  for  the  young  of  both  sexes. 

Then  the  story  came  out:  Miss  Crumley,  afflicted 
with  a  headache  something  over  a  fortnight  since,  and 
enjoying  the  cool  night  air  just  behind  her  front  gate, 
had  seen  Mrs.  Balfame  come  out  of  Dr.  Steuer's  garden 
next  door  and  meet  Dwight  Rush  face  to  face.  He  had 
begged  to  be  allowed  to  see  her  home. 

Mrs.  Balfame  had  lovely  manners,  she  couldn't  help 
being  sweet  unless  she  disliked  a  person,  and  no  woman 
will  elect  to  walk  up  a  long  dark  avenue  alone  if  a  man 
offer  to  escort  her. 

Alys  would  have  thought  nothing  of  it  —  merely  as 
sumed  that  Rush,  being  a  comparative  newcomer,  had 
caught  at  the  chance  to  make  a  favourable  impression 
on  the  leader  of  Elsinore  society —  (no,  he  was  no 
snob,  but  that  idea  just  came  to  her),  if  they  had  not 
crawled,  yes,  crawled  all  the  way  up  the  avenue. 

Both  were  vigorous  people  with  long  legs ;  they  could 


MRS.     BALFAME  121 

have  covered  the  distance  to  the  Balfame  place  in  three 
minutes.  They  had  been  more  than  ten,  and  as  they 
passed  under  the  successive  lamp  posts  she  had  noted 
the  man's  bent  head,  the  woman's  tilted  back  —  as  she 
gazed  up  into  his  eyes,  no  doubt. 

"  In  this  town,"  Miss  Crumley  had  announced,  "  a 
woman  is  fast  or  she  isn't.  You  know  just  where  you 
are.  There's  a  class  that's  sly  about  it,  but  somehow 
you  get '  on  '  in  time.  Mrs.  Balfame  has  stood  for  the 
highest  and  best.  Mind  you,  I'm  not  saying  that  she 
ever  saw  Rush  alone  again,  or  cared  a  snap  of  her 
finger  for  him  —  or  he  for  her.  No  doubt  she  felt, 
when  the  rare  chance  offered  of  taking  a  little  flyer,  that 
it  was  too  good  to  miss.  But  she  shouldn't  have  done 
it;  that's  the  point.  I  don't  like  my  idols  to  have 
feet  of  clay." 

Broderick  had  felt  both  sympathetic  and  amused. 
He  knew  that  Alys  Crumley  was  not  only  sweet  of  tem 
per  and  frank,  if  not  candid,  but  that  in  spite  of  all  her 
desperate  modernism  she  cherished  high  ideals  of  con 
duct  ;  and  here  she  was  turning  loose  the  cat  that  skulks 
somewhere  in  every  commonplace  female's  nature. 

But  the  whole  conversation  had  left  his  mind 
promptly.  He  had  attached  no  significance  whatever 
to  a  ten  minutes'  walk  between  a  polite  man  and  a 
woman  returning  alone  from  a  friend's  house  on  a  dark 
night. 

Now  every  word  of  the  conversation  came  back  to 
him.  Rush,  he  gathered,  had  gone  to  the  Crumley 
house  several  times  a  week  for  a  while,  and  then,  for 
reasons  known  only  to  himself  and  Alys,  had  ceased 
his  visits  abruptly.  Had  she  fallen  in  love  with  him? 
Or  was  it  only  her  vanity  that  was  wounded?  And  if 


122  MRS.     BALFAME 

Rush  had  dropped  a  girl  as  pretty  and  bright  and  win 
ning  as  Alys  Crumley  —  who  improved  upon  acquaint 
ance,  moreover  —  what  was  the  reason  ?  Why  had 
he  not  fallen  in  love  with  her?  Had  he  loved  some 
one  else  ? 

Broderick  swung  his  mind  to  the  morning  following 
the  murder,  when  he  had  met  Rush  in  the  hall  of  the 
Elsinore  Hotel.  The  lawyer  professed  himself  as  de 
lighted  to  "  run  up  against  him  "  and  invited  him  to 
breakfast.  All  this  had  been  natural  enough,  and  it 
was  equally  natural  that  the  conversation  should  have 
but  one  theme. 

Once  more  Broderick  sought  a  fugitive  impression 
and  found  it.  Rush,  who  was  a  master  of  words  when 
verbal  exactness  was  imperative,  had  created  an  impres 
sion  in  his  companion's  mind  of  the  impeccability  of  the 
murdered  man's  widow. 

Broderick  had  wondered  once  or  twice  since  whence 
came  that  mental  picture  of  Mrs.  Balfame  that  rose 
clear-cut  in  his  memory,  in  spite  of  his  deliberate  con 
viction  of  her  guilt.  Other  people  had  raved  about  her 
and  made  no  impression  upon  the  young  reporter's  se 
lective  and  somewhat  cynical  mind;  but  Rush  had  al 
most  accomplished  his  purpose ! 

Why  had  he  sought  to  accomplish  it  ? 

Broderick  had  known  Rush  in  and  out  of  court  for 
nearly  two  years,  ^henever  he  had  been  on  an  assign 
ment  in  that  part  of  Brabant  County  he  had  made  a 
point  of  seeking  him  out,  and  even  of  spending  an  even 
ing  with  him  if  he  could  afford  the  time.  He  liked 
the  unique  blend  of  East  and  West  in  the  man ;  to  Brod- 
erick's  keen  appraising  mind  Rush  reflected  the  very 
best  of  the  two  great  rival  bisections  of  the  nation.  He 


MRS.     BALFAME  123 

liked  the  mixture  of  frankness  and  subtlety,  of  simple 
unquestioning  patriotism  —  of  assumption  that  no 
country  but  the  United  States  of  America  mattered  in 
the  very  least  —  and  the  intense  concentrated  indi 
vidualism.  Of  hard-headed  American  determination 
to  "  get  there  "  at  any  honourable  cost,  of  jealously  hid 
den  romanticism. 

Broderick  was  almost  at  the  Crumley  gate.  He 
halted  for  a  moment  under  the  dark  maples  and  glanced 
up  the  long  shadowy  avenue,  his  own  narrower  and  still 
more  jealously  guarded  "  romantic  streak  "  appreciat 
ing  the  possibilities  on  a  dusky  evening  with  a  girl 
whose  face  floated  for  a  moment  before  him.  But  he 
banished  her  promptly,  searching  his  memory  for  some 
salient  trait  in  Rush  that  he  instinctively  knew  would 
establish  the  current  he  desired. 

He  found  it  after  a  moment  of  intense  concentration. 
Rush  was  the  sort  of  man  that  loves  not  woman  but  a 
woman.  His  very  friendship  for  Alys  Crumley  was 
evidence  that  he  cared  nothing  for  girls  as  girls.  Only 
the  exceptional  drew  him,  and  mere  youth  left  him  un 
moved. 

Knowing  Rush  as  he  did,  he  felt  his  way  rapidly 
toward  the  facts.  Alys,  woman-like,  had  succumbed  to 
propinquity,  and  betrayed  herself;  Rush,  finding  his 
mere  masculine  loneliness  misinterpreted,  and  being 
honourable  to  boot,  had  promptly  withdrawn. 

But  why?  Alys  would  have  made  him  a  delightful 
and  useful  wife.  She  was  one  of  those  too  clever  girls 
whom  celibacy  made  neurotic  and  uncertain,  but  out  of 
whom  matrimony  and  maternity  knocked  all  the  non 
sense  at  once  and  finally.  She  would  make  a  splendid 
woman. 


124  MRS.     BALFAME 

He  should  have  thought  her  just  the  girl  to  allure 
Rush,  whom  he  also  knew  to  be  fastidious  and  to  set  a 
high  value  on  the  good  old  Brabant  blood.  Moreover, 
it  was  time  that  Rush  wrould  be  wanting  the  permanent 
companionship  of  a  woman,  a  bright,  progressive,  but 
feminine  woman.  He  had  observed  certain  signs. 

Alys,  apparently,  had  not  measured  up  to  Rush's  se 
cret  ideal  of  the  wholly  desirable  woman,  nor  appealed 
to  that  throbbing  vein  of  romanticism  which  he  had 
striven  to  bury  beneath  the  dusty  tomes  of  the  law. 
What  sort  of  woman,  then,  could  satisfy  all  he  de 
sired  ?  And  had  he  found  her  ? 

Broderick  recalled  a  certain  knightly  exaltation  in 
Rush's  blue  eyes  which  had  come  and  gone  as  they  dis 
cussed  Mrs.  Balfame,  although  not  a  word  of  the  adroit 
concept  he  had  built  remained  in  the  reporter's  memory. 
But  those  eyes  came  back  to  Broderick  there  in  the  dark 
—  the  eyes  of  a  man  young  and  ardent  like  himself  — 
he  almost  fancied  he  had  seen  the  woman's  image  in 
them. 

He  revived  his  impression  of  Mrs.  Balfame,  seen  for 
the  first  time  to-day,  and  contemplated  it  impersonally : 
A  beautiful,  a  fascinating  woman  —  to  a  man  of 
Rush's  limited  experience  and  idealism;  fastidious, 
proud,  gracious,  supremely  poised. 

Nor  did  she  look  a  day  over  thirty,  although  she  must 
be  a  good  bit  more  —  he  recalled  the  obituaries  of  the 
dead  man :  they  had  alluded  to  his  marital  accomplish 
ment  as  covering  a  term  of  some  twenty  years.  Per 
haps  she  was  his  second  wife  —  but  no  —  nor  did  it 
matter.  Rush  was  just  the  sort  of  chap  to  fall  in  love 
with  a  woman  older  than  himself,  if  she  were  still  young 
in  appearance  and  as  chastely  lovely,  as  unapproachable, 


MRS.     BALFAME  125 

as  Mrs.  Balfame.  He  would  idealise  her  very  years, 
contrast  them  with  that  vague  suggestion  of  virginity 
that  Broderick  recalled,  of  deep  untroubled  tides. 

All  romantic  men  believe  in  women's  un fathomed 
depths  when  in  love,  reflected  the  star  reporter  cyn 
ically,  and  Mrs.  Balfame  was  just  the  sort  to  go  until 
forty  before  having  the  smashing  love  affair  of  her  life ; 
and  to  inspire  a  similar  passion  in  a  hard-working  ideal 
ist  like  Dwight  Rush. 

Mrs.  Balfame  and  Dwight  Rush!  Broderick,  who 
now  stood  quite  still,  a  few  paces  from  the  Crumley 
gate,  whistled. 

Could  Rush  have  fired  that  shot?  Broderick  re 
called  that  the  lawyer  had  mentioned  having  spent  Sat 
urday  evening  in  Brooklyn  —  on  business. 

Broderick  shook  his  head  vigorously.  So  far  as  he 
was  concerned,  Rush  never  should  be  asked  to  produce 
his  alibi.  He  did  not  believe  that  Rush  had  done  it, 
did  not  propose  to  harbour  the  suggestion  for  a  mo 
ment.  Rush  was  not  the  man  to  commit  a  cowardly 
murder,  not  even  for  a  woman.  If  he  had  wanted  to 
kill  the  man  he  would  have  involved  himself  in  an  elec 
tion  row,  forced  the  bully  to  draw  his  gun,  and  then 
got  in  his  own  fire  double  quick.  Standards  were 
standards. 

Broderick  was  more  convinced  than  ever  that  Mrs. 
Balfame  had  committed  the  deed,  and  he  had  estab 
lished  the  current.  His  work  was  "  cut  out "  for  the 
evening;  and  without  further  delay  he  presented  him 
self  at  the  Widow  Crumley's  door. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

SUPPER  was  over  and  Broderick  and  Miss  Crum 
ley  sat  in  the  back  yard  studio;  Mrs.  Crumley 
had  company  of  her  own,  and  as  Alys  decried  the  vul 
garity  of  the  legendary  American  daughter's  attitude 
to  the  poor-spirited  American  mother,  she  invariably 
retired  to  the  background  whenever  it  would  enhance 
Mrs.  Crumley's  self-respect  to  occupy  not  only  the 
foreground  but  (if  her  daughter  had  an  interesting 
visitor)  the  entire  stage.  Alys,  since  her  humiliating 
failure  with  Dwight  Rush,  clung  the  more  passionately 
to  her  rules  of  conduct.  They  were  not  red  with  the 
blood  of  life,  but  at  least  they  served  as  an  anchored 
buoy. 

The  atelier  was  hung  with  olive  green  burlap  and  cov 
ered  with  an  artistic  litter  of  sketches.  Broderick,  be 
fore  settling  himself  into  a  comfortable  chair  by  the 
stove,  examined  the  more  recent  and  encouraged  her 
with  a  few  words  of  discriminating  praise. 

"  Keep  it  up,  Alicia.  The  News  for  you  next  month 
if  you  are  ready  for  a  job.  You've  improved  mar 
vellously  in  figures,  which  was  where  you  were  weak. 
Miss  Loys,  our  fashion  artist,  is  marrying  next  month. 
You  might  as  well  begin  with  that.  You'll  be  on  the 
paper  and  can  jump  into  something  better  when  it  of 
fers." 

Alys  nodded  emphatically.  "  Give  me  work,  and 
as  soon  as  possible.  I  don't  care  much  what  it  is.  But 

126 


MRS.    BALFAME  127 

I  want  work  and  plenty  of  it.  It  isn't  only  that  I  want 
to  use  my  energies,  but  I've  spent  all  I  can  afford  on 
lessons  and  the  rest  of  it." 

"  I'll  see  to  it.     Your  sort  doesn't  go  begging." 
Broderick  clipped  his  cigar  and  watched  her  thin 
profile  for  a  moment  without  speaking. 

He  noticed  for  the  first  time  that  she  had  lost  the  little 
flesh  that  formerly  had  covered  her  small  bones,  and 
that  the  pink  stained  the  pale  ivory  of  her  cheeks  only 
when  conversation  excited  her.  But  if  anything  she 
was  prettier  —  no,  more  attractive  —  than  ever,  for 
there  was  more  depth  in  her  face,  which  in  spite  of  its 
subtle  suggestions,  had  seemed  to  his  critical  masculine 
taste  to  be  too  eager,  too  prone  to  pour  out  her  person 
ality  without  reserve  when  the  brain  lighted  up.  Now 
there  was  a  slight  droop  of  the  eyelids  which  might 
mean  fatigue,  but  gave  length  and  mystery  to  the 
strange  olive  eyes.  Her  pink  mouth,  with  its  short 
upper  lip,  was  too  small  for  his  taste,  but  the  modelling 
of  her  features  in  general  seemed  to  him  more  cleanly 
defined,  and  the  sweep  of  jaw,  almost  as  keen  as  a 
blade,  must  have  delighted  her  own  artist  sou^  She 
was  rather  diminutive  (to  her  sorrow),  but  the  long 
lines  she  cultivated  in  her  house  gowns  made  her  figure 
very  alluring,  and  the  limp  and  awkward  grace  of 
fashion  singularly  became  her.  She  wore  to-night  a 
"butterfly"  gown  of  georgette  (finding,  as  ever,  ad 
mirable  effects  in  cotton  since  she  could  not  afford  the 
costly  fabrics),  the  colour  of  the  American  beauty  rose, 
and  a  narrow  band  of  olive  velvet  around  her  thin 
ivory-white  neck.  For  the  moment  of  her  absorption, 
as  she  stared  into  the  coals,  her  attitude  would  have 
been  one  of  complete  repose  had  it  not  been  for  her  rest- 


128  MRS.    BALFAME 

less  hands.  Broderick  noticed,  too,  that  there  were 
darkened  hollows  under  her  eyes.  "  Poor  kid,"  he 
thought.  "  She's  been  through  it,  all  right,  and  put  up 
a  stiff  fight.  But  what  a  pity." 

As  he  struck  a  match  she  rose,  and,  opening  a  drawer 
in  the  table,  took  out  a  box  of  Russian  cigarettes.  "  I 
keep  these  here,"  she  announced,  "  because  I  don't  want 
to  shock  mother;  and  I  seldom  indulge  these  days  in 
expensive  habits.  But  I  shall  celebrate  and  smoke  all 
evening.  It  is  jolly  to  have  you  like  this  again,  Jimmy. 
I  heard  you  were  engaged.  Is  it  true?  You  would 
seem  to  have  deserted  every  one  else." 

Mr.  Broderick  coloured  and  looked  as  sheepish  as  a 
highly  sophisticated  star  reporter  may.  "  Well,  not 
quite,"  he  admitted.  "  It's  been  heavy  running,  and  I 
don't  have  all  the  time  there  is  on  my  hands.  But  — 
I  hope  —  well,  I  think  now  it'll  be  pretty  plain  sail- 
ing—" 

"  Good,  Jimmy,  good !  " 

For  a  moment  he,  too,  gazed  into  the  coals,  his  eyes 
softening;  then  once  more  he  banished  the  dainty  image 
evoked ;  no  nonsense  for  him  in  Elsinore,  with  the  Bal- 
fame  tangle  to  unravel  to  the  glory  of  the  New  York 
News. 

"  Alys,"  he  said,  stretching  out  his  long  legs  and 
looking  innocent  and  comfortable,  "  I  want  to  have  a 
confidential  talk  with  you  about  Mrs.  Balfame."  He 
paused  and  then  looked  her  straight  in  the  eyes  as  he 
launched  his  bolt.  "  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  she  shot  him  — " 

"  Jim  Broderick !  "  Alys  sprang  to  her  feet,  her  eyes 
wide  and  full  of  angry  light.  "  Oh,  you  newspaper 
men !  —  How  utterly  abominable !  " 


MRS.     BALFAME  129 

"Why?  Sit  down,  my  dear.  Somebody  did  it  — 
not?  as  our  friends  the  Germans  say.  And  undoubt 
edly  that  some  one  is  the  person  most  interested  in  get 
ting  him  out  of  the  way." 

"  But  not  Mrs.  Balf ame !  Why  —  I've  been  brought 
up  on  Mrs.  Balfame.  I'd  as  soon  suspect  my  own 
mother." 

"  No,  my  friend,  you  would  not.  Mrs.  Crumley  is 
adorable  in  her  own  way,  but  she  is  frankly  and  com 
fortably  in  her  fifties.  She  is  not  a  beautiful  woman 
who  looks  fully  ten  years  younger  than  she  has  any 
right  to  look.  See  ?  " 

«  Oh  — but  — 

"  Think  it  over.  You  said  the  other  day  that  you 
believed  Mrs.  Balfame  to  have  unplumbed  depths,  or 
something  equally  popular  with  your  sex.  And  you 
were  horrified  at  her  singular  facial  transformations  no 
less  than  twice  within  a  fortnight.  Certainly  the  pic 
ture  you  drew  of  her  stalking  down  the  Country  Club 
room  was  that  of  a  woman  in  a  mood  for  anything — " 

"  Of  a  lovely  well-bred  woman  outraged  by  the  con 
duct  of  a  drunken  brute  of  a  husband.  But  do  you 
imagine  that  any  woman  goes  through  life  without 
being  turned  into  a  fury  now  and  then  by  her  hus 
band?" 

"  No  doubt.  But,  you  see,  the  death  of  the  brute  oc 
curred  so  soon  after  the  transformation  scene  enacted 
behind  the  expressive  face  of  the  lady  you  have  im 
mortalised  on  paper  —  and  no  new-made  devil  is  so 
complete  as  that  which  rises  out  of  the  debris  of  an 
angel.  When  your  placid  sternly-controlled  women  do 
explode,  they  may  patch  themselves  together  as  swiftly 
as  a  cyclone  passes,  but  one  of  the  sinister  faces  of  their 


130  MRS.    BALFAME 

hidden  collection  has  been  flashed  momentarily  before 
the  public  eye  — " 

"Oh!     Oh!" 

"  I  have  tracked  down  every  suspect,  several  upon 
whom  no  suspicion  has  alighted  —  as  yet.  To  my 
mind  there  are  only  two  people  to  whom  the  crime  could 
be  brought  home." 

"Who  is  the  other?" 

"  Dwight  Rush." 

This  time  Alys  did  not  sit  up  with  flaming  eyes.  To 
the  astute  gaze  of  the  reporter  she  took  herself  visibly 
in  hand.  But  she  bit  through  the  long  tube  between 
her  lips.  "  What  makes  you  think  that  ?  "  she  asked, 
as  she  tossed  the  bits  into  the  fire  and  lighted  another 
cigarette.  "  You  roam  too  far  afield  for  me." 

"  He  is  in  love  with  her." 

"With  whom?" 

"  The  lady  who  was  so  opportunely,  if  somewhat 
sensationally,  made  a  widow  last  Saturday  night." 

"  He  is  not !  Why  — :  how  absurd  you  are  to-night, 
Jim.  She  is  a  thousand  years  older  than  he." 

"How  old  is  she—" 

"  Forty-two.  Mother  sent  her  a  birthday  cake  last 
month." 

"  Rush  is  thirty- four.  Who  cares  for  eight  years  on 
the  wrong  side  these  days  ?  She  looks  younger  than  he 
does,  to  say  nothing  of  her  own  inconsiderable  age; 
and  when  a  woman  is  as  lovely  as  Mrs.  Balfame,  as 
interesting  as  she  must  be  with  that  astute  mind,  that 
subtle  suggestion  of  mystery — " 

"  You  are  mad,  simply  mad.  In  the  first  place,  he 
has  had  no  chance  to  find  out  whether  she  is  interesting 


MRS.     BALFAME  131 

or  not  —  if  he  had,  all  Elsinore  would  have  rung  with 
it.  And  —  ah— " 

"What?" 

"  Nothing." 

"  Come  out  with  it.  It's  up  to  you  to  prove  him  in 
nocent  if  you  can." 

"  He  was  in  Brooklyn  that  evening.  I  met  him  at 
the  Cummacks'  the  next  day,  and  heard  him  say  so." 

"  Yes,  that  is  what  he  is  at  pains  to  tell  every  one. 
Perhaps  he  can  prove  it,  perhaps  not.  But  that's  not 
what  was  in  your  mind." 

"  I  was  afraid  of  being  misunderstood.  But  it  is  all 
right,  for  of  course  he  can  prove  that  he  was  in  Brook 
lyn.  I  happen  to  know  that  he  went  to  the  Balfame 
house  on  his  way  back  from  the  club  Saturday  evening, 
and  only  stayed  a  few  minutes.  I  left  the  club  just 
after  Mrs.  Balfame  did,  as  I  had  been  out  there 
all  afternoon  and  had  promised  mother  to  help 
her  during  the  evening.  I  came  in  on  the  trolley 
and  got  off  at  the  corner  of  Balfame  and  Dawbarn 
Streets,  to  finish  an  argument  I  was  having  with  Har 
riet  Bell  over  the  possibility  of  Mrs.  Balfame  losing  her 
social  power  through  the  scene  out  at  the  club  —  few 
of  the  members  would  care  to  go  through  such  a  scene 
a  second  time.  Moreover,  some  of  these  newer  rich 
women  resent  her  supremacy  and  would  like  to  force 
her  to  take  a  back  seat. 

"  I  only  talked  for  a  few  minutes  after  I  got  off  the 
car  and  then  walked  quickly  over  to  the  avenue.  Just 
as  I  turned  the  corner  I  saw  Dwight  Rush  slam  the 
Balfame  gate  and  almost  run  up  the  walk.  He  seemed 
in  a  tearing  hurry  about  something.  I  was  standing 


132  MRS.     BALFAME 

on  our  porch  only  a  few  minutes  later  when  he  strode 
past  —  no  doubt  hoping  to  catch  the  seven-ten  for 
Brooklyn.  Now ! " 

"  Nobody  would  be  happier  than  I  to  prove  a  first- 
class  alibi  for  Rush  — " 

"  Who  else  suspects  him  ?  " 

"  No  one ;  and  so  far  as  I  am  concerned  no  one  shall. 
If  you  want  the  whole  truth,  what  I'm  as  intent  on  just 
now  as  big  news  itself  is  complete  exoneration  for  my 
friend.  But  if  he  didn't  do  it,  she  did.  And  if  he 
butted  in  upon  her  at  a  time  like  that  it  was  because 
he  was  beside  himself  —  no  doubt  he  asked  her  to  elope 
with  him  —  get  a  divorce  — " 

"  What  utter  nonsense !  " 

"  Perhaps.  But  if  she  saw  her  chance,  I'm  think 
ing  she  wouldn't  have  hesitated  a  minute  to  put  a  bullet 
in  Balfame.  People  don't  turn  as  sick  at  the  mere 
thought  of  committing  murder,  when  there's  a  good 
chance  of  putting  it  over,  as  you  may  imagine.  Most 
of  us  experience  the  impulse  some  time  or  other. 
Cowardice  or  circumstances  safeguard  us.  She  did  it, 
take  my  word  for  it.  She  deliberately  poisoned  a  glass 
of  lemonade  first,  for  Balfame  to  drink  when  he  came 
home  on  his  way  to  take  the  train  for  Albany.  Then, 
something  or  other  interfering  —  what,  I  can  only 
guess  at  as  yet  —  she  found  her  chance  to  shoot,  and 
shot." 

"  Why,  if  all  that  were  true,  she  would  be  a  fiend." 

"  Not  necessarily.  Merely  a  highly  exasperated 
woman.  One,  moreover,  who  had  locked  herself  up 
too  long.  Marital  squabbles  are  safety  valves,  and  I 
understand  she  let  him  do  the  rowing.  But  I  don't  care 
about  her  impulses.  The  act  is  enough  for  me. 


MRS.     BALFAME  133 

Psychology  later,  when  I  write  a  page  of  Sunday  stuff. 
But  you  can  see  for  yourself  that  if  she  isn't  indicted, 
and  pretty  quick,  D wight  Rush  will  be?  " 

"  But  no  one  else  suspects  him." 

"  Not  yet.  But  the  whole  town  thinks  of  nothing 
else.  And  as  they've  about  given  up  all  hope  of  the 
political  crowd,  as  well  as  gunmen  and  tango  girls, 
they'll  veer  presently  toward  the  truth.  But  before 
they  settle  down  on  their  idol's  lofty  head,  they'll  root 
about  for  some  man  who  might  easily  be  in  love  with 
her  —  although  hopelessly,  as  a  matter  of  course. 
Then  they'll  recall  a  thousand  trifles  that  no  doubt  you 
too  recall  without  effort." 

"  It's  true  she  turned  to  him  out  there,  ignoring  men 
she  had  known  for  years  —  she  saw  him  at  the  house 
that  night,  if  only  for  a  few  moments  —  Oh,  it's  too 
horrible!  Mrs.  Balfame.  An  Elsinore  lady!  And 
she  has  been  so  good  to  us  all  these  hard  years,  helped 
us  over  and  over  again.  Oh,  I  don't  mind  telling  you, 
Jim,  that  I  was  a  little  bit  jealous  of  her  —  I  rather 
liked  Rush  —  he  was  interesting  and  a  nice  male  crea 
ture,  and  I  was  so  lonely  —  and  he  stopped  coming  so 
suddenly  —  and  then  seeing  him  so  delighted  to  meet 
her  that  night  —  and  both  of  them  dragging  up  the 
avenue  as  if  each  moment  were  a  jewel  —  I've  always 
thought  it  hateful  for  married  women  to  try  to  cut  girls 
out  —  it's  so  unnatural  —  but  I  can't  hear  her  accused 
of  murder  —  to  go —  Oh,  it's  too  awful  to  talk 
about!" 

"  She'd  get  off.  Don't  let  that  worry  you.  Innocent 
or  guilty.  There's  no  other  way  of  saving  Rush.  Be 
more  jealous,  if  that  will  help  matters.  He'll  marry 
her  the  moment  he  decently  can." 


134  MRS.     BALFAME 

"  I  don't  believe  he  cares  a  bit  for  her.  And  I  don't 
believe  she  will  marry  him  or  any  one." 

"  Oh,  yes,  she  will.  He's  the  sort  to  get  what  he 
wants  —  and,  take  it  from  me,  he  is  mad  about  her. 
And  she's  at  the  age  to  be  carried  off  her  feet  by  an  ar 
dent  determined  lover.  Make  no  mistake  about  that. 
Besides,  her's  is  a  name  that  she'll  want  to  drop  as  soon 
as  possible." 

"  Jim  Broderick,  you  know  that  you  are  deliberately 
playing  on  my  female  nature,  on  all  the  baseness  you 
feel  sure  is  in  it.  I'd  always  thought  you  rather  subtle, 
diplomatic.  I  don't  thank  you  for  the  compliment  of 
frankness." 

"  My  dear  girl,  it  is  a  compliment  —  my  utter  lack  of 
diplomacy  with  you.  I  want  to  pull  this  big  thing  off 
for  my  paper,  for  your  paper.  And  I  want  to  save  the 
friend  of  both  of  us.  I  have  merely  tried  to  prove  to 
you  that  Mrs.  Balfame  is  a  mere  human  being,  not  a 
goddess,  and  deserves  to  pay  some  of  the  penalty  of  her 
crime,  at  least.  Certainly,  she  isn't  worth  the  sacrifice 
of  D wight  Rush  — " 

"  But  if  he  can  prove  his  alibi  — " 

"  Suppose  he  couldn't.  It  was  Saturday  night. 
What  more  likely  than  that  he  failed  to  find  the  man  he 
wanted?  I  have  a  dark  suspicion  that  he  never  went 
near  Brooklyn  that  night,  was  in  no  mood  to  think  of 
business ;  although  I  don't  for  a  moment  believe  he  was 
near  the  Balfame  place,  or  knows  who  did  it  —  unless 
Mrs.  Balfame  has  confessed  to  him.  She  is  a  very 
clever  woman,  not  likely  to  linger  on  smugly  in  any 
fool's  paradise.  She  must  know  that  suspicion  will 
work  round  to  her,  and  knowing  his  infatuation,  no 
doubt  has  consulted  him." 


MRS.     BALFAME  135 

Broderick  really  thought  nothing  of  the  sort,  but  cal 
culated  his  words ;  and  they  produced  their  effect.  The 
blood  rose  to  the  girl's  hair,  then  ebbed,  leaving  her 
ghastly.  "  He  would  hate  her  then,"  she  whispered. 

"  Not  Rush.  Another  man,  perhaps ;  but  not  only 
do  things  go  too  deep  with  a  man  like  that  for  anything 
but  time  to  cure,  but  he's  chock  full  of  romantic  chiv 
alry.  And  he's  madly  in  love,  remember ;  by  that  I  mean 
in  the  first  flush.  He'd  look  upon  her  as  a  martyr,  and 
immediately  set  to  work  to  ward  suspicion  from  her ;  if 
an  alibi  could  not  be  proved  for  him  he'd  take  the  crime 
on  his  own  shoulders,  if  the  worst  came  to  worst." 

"  Oh !     Are  men  really  so  Quixotic  in  these  days  ?  " 

"  Haven't  changed  fundamentally  since  they  evolved 
from  protoplasm." 

"  But  why  should  all  that  chivalry  —  that  magnificent 
passion  —  the  first  love  of  a  man  like  that  —  be  called 
out  by  a  woman  of  Mrs.  Bal fame's  age?  Why,  it's 
some  girl's  right !  I  don't  say  mine.  Don't  think  I'm 
a  dog  in  the  manger.  I'm  trying  not  to  be.  But  the 
world  is  full  of  girls  —  not  foolish  young  things  only 
good  enough  for  boys,  but  girls  in  their  twenties,  bright, 
companionable,  helpful,  real  mates  for  men  —  Why, 
it  is  unnatural,  damnable !  " 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  said  Broderick  sympathetically.  "  But 
if  human  nature  weren't  a  tangled  wire  fence  electrified 
full  of  contradictions,  life  wouldn't  be  interesting  at  all. 
Perhaps  it's  a  mere  case  of  affinity,  destiny  —  don't 
ever  betray  me.  But  there  it  is.  As  well  try  to  explain 
the  abrupt  taking  off  of  useful  men  in  their  prime,  of 
lovely  children,  of  needed  mothers,  of  aged  women  who 
have  lived  exemplary  lives,  mainly  for  others,  spending 
their  last  years  with  the  horrors  of  cancer.  Don't  try  to 


136  MRS.     BALFAME 

explain  human  passion.  And  she  is  beautiful,  and 
fresher  to  look  at  than  girls  of  eighteen  that  tango  day 
and  night.  But  he  must  be  saved  from  her  as  well  as 
from  arrest.  Will  you  help  me  ?  " 

"  .What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  " 

"  Get  further  evidence  about  Mrs.  Balfame." 

"  I  cannot,  and  would  not  if  I  could.  Do  you  think 
I  would  be  the  means  of  fastening  the  crime  of  murder 
on  any  woman  ?  " 

"  You  would  if  you  were  a  hardened  • —  and  good  — 
newspaper  woman." 

"  Well,  I'm  not.  And  I  won't.  Do  your  own 
sleuthing." 

"  More  than  I  are  on  the  job,  but  I  want  your  help. 
I  don't  say  you  can  pick  up  fragments  of  her  dress  in 
the  grove,  or  that  you  can  —  or  would  —  worm  your 
self  into  her  confidence  and  extract  a  confession.  But 
you  can  set  your  wits  to  work  and  think  up  ways  to  put 
me  on  the  track  of  more  evidence  than  I've  got  now. 
Can  you  think  of  anything  off-hand?  " 

"  No." 

"  Ah  ?    What  does  that  intonation  mean  ?  " 

"  Your  ears  are  off  the  key." 

"  Not  mine.  Tell  me  at  once  —  No," —  He  rose  and 
took  up  his  hat  — "  never  mind  now.  Think  it  over. 
You  will  tell  me  in  a  day  or  two.  Just  remember  while 
watching  all  my  little  seeds  sprout  that  you  can  help 
me  save  a  fine  fellow  and  put  my  heel  on  a  snake  — 
a  murderess !  Paugh !  There's  nothing  so  obscene. 
Good  night." 

She  did  not  rise  as  he  let  himself  out,  but  sat  beside 
her  cold  stove  thinking  and  crying  until  her  mother 
called  her  to  come  in  and  go  to  bed. 


CHAPTER  XV 

MRS.  BALFAME,  after  she  dismissed  the  news 
paper  men,  went  up  to  her  bedroom  and  sat  very 
still  for  a  long  while.  She  was  apprehensive  rather 
than  frightened,  but  she  felt  very  sober. 

She  had  accepted  the  assurance  of  the  chief  of  the 
local  police  that  his  inquiry  regarding  the  pistol  was  a 
mere  matter  of  routine,  and  had  merely  obeyed  a  nor 
mal  instinct  in  concealing  it.  But  she  knew  the  intense 
interest  of  her  community  in  the  untimely  and  mys 
terious  exit  of  one  of  its  most  notorious  members,  an 
interest  raised  to  the  superlative  degree  by  the  atten 
tions  of  the  metropolitan  press ;  and  she  knew  also  that 
when  a  community  is  excited  suspicions  are  rapidly 
translated  into  proofs,  and  every  clue  feeds  the  appetite 
for  a  victim. 

The  European  war  was  a  dazzling  example  on  the 
grand  scale  of  the  complete  breakdown  of  intellect  be 
fore  the  primitive  passions  of  hatred,  greed,  envy,  and 
the  recurrent  desire  of  man  to  kill,  combined  with  that 
monstrous  dilation  of  the  ego  which  consoles  him  with 
a  childish  belief  in  his  own  impeccability. 

The  newspapers  of  course  pandered  to  the  taste  of 
their  patrons  for  morbid  vicarious  excitement ;  she  had 
glanced  contemptuously  at  the  headlines  of  her  own 
"  Case,"  and  had  accepted  her  temporary  notoriety  as  a 
matter  of  course,  schooled  herself  to  patience;  the  or 
deal  was  scarifying  but  of  necessity  brief. 


138  MRS.     BALFAME 

But  these  young  men.  They  had  insinuated  —  what 
had  they  not  insinuated?  Either  they  had  extraordi 
nary  powers  of  divination,  or  they  were  a  highly  spe 
cialised  branch  of  the  detective  force.  They  had  asked 
questions  and  forced  answers  from  her  that  made  her 
start  and  shiver  in  the  retrospect. 

^Was  it  possible  they  believed  she  had  murdered  David 
Balfame,  or  were  they  merely  seeking  material  for  a 
few  more  columns  before  the  case  died  a  natural  death? 
She  had  never  been  interviewed  before,  save  once  super 
ficially  as  President  of  the  Friday  Club,  but  she  knew 
one  or  two  of  the  county  editors,  and  Alys  Crumley 
had  sometimes  amused  her  with  stories  of  her  experi 
ences  as  a  New  York  reporter. 

These  young  men,  so  well-groomed,  so  urbane,  so 
charming  even,  all  of  them  no  doubt  generously 
equipped  to  love  and  marry  and  protect  with  their 
lives  the  girl  of  their  choice,  were  they  too  but  the 
soldiers  of  an  everlasting  battlefield,  often  at  bay  and 
desperate  in  the  trenches  ?  No  matter  how  good  their 
work,  how  great  their  "  killing,"  the  struggle  must  be 
renewed  daily  to  maintain  their  own  footing,  to  ad 
vance,  or  at  least  to  uphold,  the  power  of  their  little 
autocracy.  To  them  journalism  was  the  most  impor 
tant  thing  in  the  world,  and  mere  persons  like  herself, 
suddenly  lifted  from  obscurity  to  the  brassy  peaks  of 
notoriety  were  so  much  material  for  first  page  columns 
of  the  newspapers  they  served  with  all  the  loyalty  of 
those  deluded  soldiers  on  the  European  battlefields. 
She  understood  them  with  an  abrupt  and  complete 
clarity,  but  she  hated  them.  They  might  like  and  even 
admire  her,  but  they  would  show  her  no  mercy  if  they 


MRS.     BALFAME  139 

discovered  that  she  had  been  in  the  yard  that  night 
She  felt  as  if  a  pack  of  wolves  were  at  her  heels. 

But  finally  her  brow  relaxed.  She  shrugged  her 
shoulders  and  began  to  unbutton  the  dense  black  gown 
that  had  expressed  the  mood  the  world  demands  of  a 
four-days'  widow.  Let  them  suspect,  divine  what  they 
chose.  Not  a  soul  on  earth  but  Anna  Steuer  knew 
that  she  had  been  out  that  night  after  her  return  home. 
Even  had  those  lynx-eyed  young  men  sat  on  the  box 
hedge  they  could  not  have  seen  her,  for  the  avenue  was 
well  lighted,  and  the  grove,  the  entire  yard  in  fact, 
had  been  as  black  as  a  mine.  Even  the  person  skulking 
among  those  trees  could  not  have  guessed  who  she  was. 

For  a  moment  she  had  been  tempted  to  tell  them  a 
little;  that  she  had  looked  out  and  seen  a  moving 
shadow  in  the  grove.  But  she  had  remembered  in 
time  that  they  would  ask  why  she  had  reserved  this 
testimony  at  the  coroner's  inquest.  Her  role  was  to 
know  nothing.  Indubitably  the  shot  had  been  fired 
from  the  trees;  nobody  questioned  that;  why  involve 
herself?  They  would  discharge  still  another  set  of 
questions  at  her,  among  others  why  she  had  not  tele 
phoned  for  the  police. 

As  she  hung  up  her  gown  she  recognised  the  heavy 
footfalls  of  her  maid  of  all  work,  and  when  Frieda 
knocked,  bade  her  enter,  employing  those  cool  im 
personal  tones  so  resented  by  the  European  servant 
after  a  brief  sojourn  on  the  dedicated  American  soil. 

As  the  girl  closed  the  door  behind  her  without  speak 
ing1,  Mrs.  Balfame  turned  sharply.  She  felt  at  a  dis 
advantage.  As  her  figure  was  reasonably  slim,  she 
wore  a  cheap  corset  which  she  washed  once  a  month 


140  MRS.     BALFAME 

in  the  bath  tub  with  her  nailbrush;  and  her  linen,  al 
though  fresh,  as  ever,  was  of  stout  longcloth,  and  un 
relieved  by  the  coquetry  of  ribbons.  She  wore  a 
serviceable  tight  petticoat  of  black  jersey,  beyond  which 
her  well-shod  feet  seemed  to  loom  larger  than  her  head. 
She  was  vaguely  grateful  that  she  had  not  been  caught 
by  Alys  Crumley,  so  fond  of  sketching  her,  and  was 
about  to  order  Frieda  to  untie  her  tongue  and  be  gone, 
when  she  noticed  that  the  girl's  face  was  no  longer 
bound,  and  asked  kindly: 

"  Has  the  toothache  gone  ?  I  hope  you  do  not  suffer 
any  longer." 

Frieda  lifted  her  small  and  crafty  eyes  and  shot  a 
suspicious  glance  at  the  mistress  who  had  been  so  in 
different  to  what  she  believed  to  be  the  worst  of  all 
pains. 

"  It's  out." 

"  Too  bad  you  didn't  have  it  out  at  once."  Mrs. 
Balfame  hastily  encased  herself  in  her  bath  robe  and 
sat  down.  "  I'll  take  my  dinner  upstairs  =— :  why  — 
what  is  it?" 

"  I  want  to  go  home." 

"Home?" 

"  To  Germany." 

"  But,  of  course  you  can't.  There  are  a  lot  of  Ger 
man  reservists  in  the  country  who  would  like  to  go 
home  and  fight,  but  they  can't  get  past  the  British." 

"  Some  have.     I  could." 

"  How  ?     That  is  quite  interesting." 

"  I  not  tell.     But  I  want  to  go." 

"  Then  go,  by  all  means.  But  please  wait  a  day  or 
two  until  I  get  another  girl." 

"  Plenty  girls  out  of  job.     I  want  to  go  to-morrow." 


MRS.     BALFAME  141 

"  Oh,  very  well.  But  you  can't  expect  a  full  month's 
wages,  as  it  is  you  that  is  serving  notice,  not  I." 

"  I  do  not  want  a  full  month  wage.  I  want  five  hun- 
dert  dollar." 

Mrs.  Balfame  turned  her  amazed  eyes  upon  the  girl, 
Her  first  thought  was  that  the  creature  had  been  driven 
insane  by  her  letters  from  home,  and  wondered  if  she 
could  overcome  her  if  attacked.  Then  as  she  met 
those  small,  sharp,  crafty  eyes,  set  high  in  the  big  stolid 
face  like  little  deadly  guns  in  a  fort,  her  heart  missed 
a  beat.  But  her  own  gaze,  large  and  cold,  did  not 
waver,  and  she  said  satirically: 

"  Well,  I  am  sure  I  hope  you  will  get  it." 

"  I  get  it  —  from  you." 

Mrs.  Balfame  lifted  her  shoulders.  "What  next? 
I  have  contributed  what  little  I  can  afford  to  the  war 
funds.  I  am  sorry,  but  I  cannot  accommodate  you." 

"You  give  me  five  hundert  dollar,"  reiterated  the 
thick  even  voice,  "  or  I  tell  the  police  you  come  in  the 
back  door  two  minutes  after  Mr.  Balfame  he  was  kilt 
at  the  front  gate." 

Obvious  danger  once  more  turned  Mrs.  Balfame  into 
pure  steel.  "  Oh,  no ;  you  will  tell  them  nothing  of  the 
sort,  for  it  is  not  true.  I  thought  I  heard  some  one  on 
the  back  stairs  when  I  went  down  to  the  kitchen.  As 
you  know  I  always  drink  a  glass  of  filtered  water  be 
fore  going  to  bed.  I  had  forgotten  the  episode  utterly, 
but  I  remember  now,  I  heard  a  noise  outside,  even 
imagined  that  some  one  turned  the  knob  of  the  door, 
and  called  up  to  ask  you  if  you  also  had  heard.  I  did 
not  know  that  anything  had  happened  out  in  front  until 
I  returned  to  my  room." 

"  I  see  you  come  in  the  kitchen  door."     But  the 


142  MRS.     BALFAME 

voice  was  not  quite  so  even,  the  shifty  glance  wavered. 
Frieda  felt  suddenly  the  European  peasant  in  the  pres 
ence  of  the  superior  by  divine  right.  Mrs.  Balfame 
followed  up  her  advantage. 

"  You  are  lying —  for  purposes  of  blackmail.  You 
did  not  see  me  come  in  the  door,  because  I  had  not 
been  outside  of  it.  I  do  not  even  remember  opening  it 
to  listen,  although  I  may  have  done  so.  You  saw  noth 
ing  and  cannot  blackmail  me.  Nor  would  any  one 
believe  your  word  against  mine." 

"  I  hear  you  come  in  just  after  me  — " 

"  Heard  ?     Just  now  you  said  you  saw." 

"Ach—  " 

Mrs.  Belfame  had  an  inspiration.  "  My  God!  "  she 
exclaimed,  springing  to  her  feet,  "  the  murderer  took 
refuge  in  the  house,  was  hidden  in  the  cellar  or  attic 
all  night,  all  the  next  day !  He  may  be  here  yet !  You 
may  be  feeding  him !  " 

She  advanced  upon  the  staring  girl  whose  mouth 
stood  open.  "Of  course.  Of  course.  You  are  a 
friend  of  Old  Dutch.  It  was  one  of  his  gunmen  who 
did  it,  and  you  are  his  accomplice.  Or  perhaps  you 
killed  him  yourself.  Perhaps  he  treated  you  as  he 
treated  so  many  girls,  and  you  killed  him  and  are  try 
ing  to  blackmail  me  for  money  to  get  out  of  the  coun- 
try." 

"  It  is  a  lie !  "  Frieda's  voice  was  strangled  with  out 
raged  virtue.  "  My  man,  he  fight  for  the  fatherland. 
Old  Dutch,  he  will  not  hurt  a  fly.  I  would  not  have 
touch  your  pig  of  a  husband.  You  know  that,  for  you 
hate  him  yourself.  I  have  see  in  the  eye,  in  the  hand. 
I  know  notings  of  who  kill  him,  but  —  no,  I  have  not 
see  you  come  in  the  kitchen  door,  but  I  hear  some  one 


MRS.     BALFAME  143 

come  in,  the  door  shut,  you  call  out  in  so  strange  voice 

—  I  believe  before  that  you  have  kill  him  —  now  — 
now  I  do  not  know  — " 

"  It  would  be  wise  to  know  nothing," —  Mrs.  Bal- 
f  ame's  voice  was  charged  with  meaning  — "  unless  you 
wish  to  be  arrested  as  the  criminal,  or  as  an  accomplice 

—  after  confessing  that  you  entered  the  house  within  a 
moment  or  two  of  the  shooting.     Who  is  to  say  ex 
actly  when  you  did  come  in?     Well,  better  keep  your 
mouth  shut.     It  is  wise  for  innocent  people  to  know  as 
little  about  a  crime  as  possible.     Why  did  you  testify 
before  the  coroner's  jury  that  your  tooth  ached  so  you 
heard    nothing?     Why    didn't    you    tell    your    story 
then?" 

"  I  was  frightened,  and  my  tooth  —  I  can  tink  of 
notings  else." 

"  And  now  you  think  it  quite  safe  to  blackmail  me?  " 

"  I  want  to  go  back  to  Germany  —  to  my  man  —  and 
I  hate  this  country  what  hates  Germany." 

"  This  country  is  neutral,"  said  Mrs.  Balfame  se 
verely.  "  It  regards  all  the  belligerents  as  barbarians 
tarred  with  the  same  brush.  You  Germans  are  so  ex 
citable  that  you  imagine  we  hate  when  we  merely  don't 
care."  This  was  intended  to  be  soothing,  but  Frieda's 
brow  darkened  and  she  thrust  out  her  pugnacious  lips. 

"  Germany,  she  is  the  greatest  country  in  the  whole 
world,"  she  announced.  "  All  the  world  —  it  muss 
know  that." 

"  How  familiar  that  sounds !  Just  a  slight  variation 
on  the  old  American  brag  that  is  quite  a  relief."  Mrs. 
Balfame  spoke  as  lightly  as  if  she  merely  had  let  down 
the  bars  of  her  dignity  out  of  sympathy  with  a  lacerated 
Teuton.  "  Well,  go  back  to  your  Germany,  Frieda,  if 


144  MRS.     BALFAME 

you  can  get  there,  but  don't  try  to  blackmail  me  again. 
I  have  no  five  hundred  dollars  to  give  you  if  I  would. 
If  you  choose,  you  may  stay  your  month  out,  and  spend 
your  evenings  taking  up  a  collection  among  your  Ger 
man  friends.  You  are  excused." 

She  had  achieved  her  purpose.  The  girl's  practical 
mind  was  puzzled  by  the  simple  explanation  of  her  mis 
tress'  presence  in  the  kitchen,  deeply  impressed  by  the 
contemptuous  refusal  to  be  blackmailed.  Her  shoul 
ders  drooped  and  she  slunk  out  of  the  room. 

For  a  moment  Mrs.  Balfame  clung,  reeling,  to  the 
back  of  a  chair.  Then  she  went  downstairs  and  tele 
phoned  to  Dwight  Rush. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  young  lawyer  was  to  call  at  eight  o'clock. 
Mrs.  Balfame  put  on  her  best  black  blouse  in 
his  honour;  it  was  cut  low  about  the  throat  and  soft 
ened  with  a  rolling  collar  of  hemstitched  white  lawn. 
This  was  as  far  in  the  art  of  sex  allurement  as  she  was 
prepared  to  go;  the  bare  idea  of  a  negligee  of  white 
lace  and  silk,  warmed  by  rose-colored  shades,  would 
have  filled  her  with  cold  disgust.  She  was  not  a  re 
ligious  woman,  but  she  had  her  standards. 

At  a  quarter  of  eight  she  made  a  careful  inspection 
of  the  lower  rooms ;  sleuths,  professional  and  amateur, 
would  not  hesitate  to  sneak  into  her  house  and  listen 
at  keyholes.  She  inferred  that  the  house  was  under 
surveillance,  for  she  had  looked  from  her  window  sev 
eral  times  and  seen  the  same  man  sauntering  up  and 
down  that  end  of  the  avenue.  No  doubt  some  one 
watched  the  back  doors  also. 

Convinced  that  her  home  was  still  sacrosanct,  she 
placed  two  chairs  at  a  point  in  the  parlour  farthest  from 
the  doors  leading  into  the  hall,  and  into  a  room  beyond 
which  Mr.  Balfame  had  used  as  an  office.  The  doors, 
of  course,  would  be  open  throughout  the  interview. 
No  one  should  be  able  to  say  that  she  had  shut  herself 
up  with  a  young  man;  on  the  other  hand,  it  was  the 
duty  of  the  deceased  husband's  lawyer  to  call  on  the 
widow.  Even  if  those  young  devils  discovered  that 
she  had  telephoned  for  him,  what  more  regular  than 

145 


146  MRS.     BALFAME 

that  she  should  wish  to  consult  her  lawyer  after  such 
insinuations  ? 

Rush  arrived  as  the  town  clock  struck  eight.  Frieda, 
who  answered  the  door  in  her  own  good  time,  surveyed 
him  suspiciously  through  a  narrow  aperture  to  which 
she  applied  one  eye. 

"What  you  want?  "  she  growled.  "  Mrs.  Balfame 
she  have  seen  all  the  reporters  already  yet." 

"  Let  the  gentleman  in,"  called  Mrs.  Bel  fame  from 
the  parlour.  "  This  is  a  friend  of  my  late  husband." 

Rush  was  permitted  to  enter.  He  was  a  full  minute 
disposing  of  his  hat  and  overcoat  in  the  hall,  while 
Frieda  dragged  her  heelless  slippers  back  to  the  kitchen 
and  slammed  the  door.  His  own  step  was  not  brisk  as 
he  left  the  hall  for  the  parlour,  and  his  face,  always  col 
ourless,  looked  thin  and  haggard.  Mrs.  Balfame,  as 
she  rose  and  gave  him  her  hand,  asked  solicitously : 

"  Are  you  under  the  weather  ?  How  seedy  you  look. 
I  wondered  why  you  had  not  called — " 

"  A  touch  of  the  grippe.  Felt  all  in  for  a  day  or  two, 
but  am  all  right  now.  And  although  I  have  been  very 
anxious  to  see  you,  I  had  made  up  my  mind  not  to 
call  unless  you  sent  for  me." 

"  Well,  I  sent  for  you  professionally,"  she  retorted 
coolly.  "  You  don't  suppose  I  took  your  love  making 
seriously." 

He  flushed  dully,  after  the  manner  of  men  with  thick 
fair  skins,  and  his  hard  blue  eyes  lost  their  fire  as  he 
stared  at  her.  It  was  incomprehensible  that  she  could 
misunderstand  him. 

"  It  was  serious  enough  to  me.  I  merely  stayed 
away,  because,  having  spoken  as  I  did,  I  —  well,  I  can 
not  very  well  explain.  You  will  remember  that  I  made 


MRS.     BALFAME  147 

you  promise  to  send  for  me  if  you  were  in  trouble — " 

"  I  remembered ! "  She  felt  his  rebuke  obscurely. 
"  It  never  occurred  to  me  to  send  for  any  one  else." 

"  Thank  you  for  that." 

"Did  you  mean  anything  but  politeness  when  you 
said  that  you  had  been  anxious  to  see  me?  " 

He  hesitated,  but  he  had  already  made  up  his  mind 
that  the  time  had  come  to  put  her  on  her  guard.  Be 
sides,  he  inferred  that  she  had  begun  herself  to  appre 
ciate  her  danger. 

"  You  have  read  the  newspapers.  You  saw  the  re 
porters  this  afternoon.  Of  course  you  must  have 
guessed  that  they  hope  for  a  sensational  trial  with  you 
as  the  heroine." 

"  How  can  men  —  men  —  be  such  heartless  brutes  ?  " 

"  Ask  the  public.  Even  that  element  that  believes 
itself  to  be  select  and  would  not  touch  a  yellow  paper 
devours  a  really  interesting  crime  in  high  life.  Never 
mind  that  now.  Let  us  get  down  to  brass  tacks.  They 
want  to  fix  the  crime  on  you.  How  are  they  going 
to  manage  it?  That  is  the  question  for  us.  Tell  me 
exactly  what  they  said,  what  they  made  you  say." 

Mrs.  Balfame  gave  him  so  circumstantial  an  account 
of  the  interview  that  he  looked  at  her  in  admiration,  al 
though  his  rigid  American  face,  that  looked  so  strong, 
turned  paler  still. 

"  What  a  splendid  witness  you  would  make !  "  He 
stared  at  the  carpet  for  a  moment,  then  flashed  his  eyes 
upward  much  as  Broderick  had  done.  "  Tell  me,"  he 
said  softly,  "  is  there  anything  you  withheld  from 
them?  You  know  how  safe  you  are  with  me.  But  I 
must  be  in  a  position  to  advise  you  what  to  say  and 
to  leave  unsaid  —  if  the  worst  comes." 


148  MRS.     BALFAME 

"  You  mean  if  I  am  arrested  ?  "  She  had  a  moment 
of  complete  naturalness,  and  stared  at  him  wildly.  He 
leaned  forward  and  patted  her  hand. 

"  Anything  is  possible  in  a  case  like  this.  But  you 
have  nothing  to  fear.  Now,  will  you  tell  me — " 

"Do  you  think  I  did  it?" 

"  I  know  that  you  did  not.  But  I  think  you  know 
something  about  it." 

"It  would  cast  no  light  on  the  mystery.  He  was 
shot  from  that  grove  on  a  pitch  dark  night,  and  that  is 
all  there  is  to  it." 

"  Let  me  be  the  judge  of  that." 

"  Very  well.  I  had  put  out  my  light  —  upstairs  — 
and,  as  I  was  nervous,  I  looked  out  of  the  window  to 
see  if  Dave  was  coming.  I  so  longed  to  have  him 
come  —  and  go !  Then  I  happened  to  glance  in  the  di 
rection  of  the  grove,  and  I  saw  some  one  sneaking 
about  there  — " 

"  Yes !  "  He  half  rose,  his  eyes  expanding,  his  nos 
trils  dilating*.  "  Go  on.  Go  on." 

"  I  told  you  I  was  nervous  —  wrought  up  from  that 
dreadful  scene  at  the  club.  I  just  felt  like  an  adven 
ture!  I  slipped  down  stairs  and  out  of  the  house  by 
the  kitchen  door  —  Frieda  takes  the  key  of  the  back 
hall  door  on  Saturday  nights  —  thinking  I  would  watch 
the  burglar;  of  course  that  was  what  I  thought  he 
must  be;  and  I  knew  that  Dave  would  be  along  in  a 
minute  — " 

"  How  long  was  this  after  he  telephoned?  It  would 
take  him  some  time  to  walk  from  Cummack's ;  and  he 
didn't  leave  at  once  — " 

"  Oh,  quite  a  while  after.  I  was  sure  then  that  he 
would  be  along  in  a  minute  or  two.  Well  —  it  may 


MRS.    BALFAME  149 

seem  incredible  to  you,  but  I  really  felt  as  if  excitement 
of  that  dangerous  sort  would  be  a  relief." 

"  I  understand  perfectly."  Rush  spoke  with  the 
fatuousness  of  man  who  believes  that  love  and  com 
plete  comprehension  of  the  object  beloved  are  natural 
corollaries.  "  But  —  but  that  is  not  the  sort  of  story 
that  goes  down  with  a  jury  of  small  farmers  and 
trades-people.  They  don't  know  much  about  your  sort 
of  nerves.  But  go  on." 

"  Well,  I  managed  to  get  into  the  grove  without  be 
ing  either  seen  or  heard  by  that  man.  I  am  sure  of 
that.  He  moved  round  a  good  deal,  and  I  thought  he 
was  feeling  about  for  some  point  from  which  he  could 
make  a  dart  for  the  house.  Then  I  heard  Dave  in 
Dawbarn  Street,  singing.  Then  I  saw  him  under  the 
lamp-post.  After  that  it  all  happened  so  quickly  I  can 
hardly  recall  it  clearly  enough  to  describe.  The  man 
near  me  crouched.  I  can't  tell  you  what  I  thought 
then  —  if  I  knew  he  was  going  to  shoot  —  or  why  I 
didn't  cry  out.  Almost  before  I  had  time  to  think  at 
all,  he  fired,  and  Dave  went  down." 

"  But  what  about  that  other  bullet  ?  Are  you  sure 
there  was  no  one  else  in  the  grove  ?  " 

"  There  may  have  been  a  dozen.  I  heard  some  one 
running  afterwards;  there  may  have  been  more  than 


one." 


"  Did  you  have  a  pistol  ?  "  He  spoke  very  softly. 
"  Don't  be  afraid  to  tell  me.  It  might  easily  have  gone 
off  accidentally  —  or  something  deeper  than  your  con 
sciousness  may  have  telegraphed  an  imperious  mes 
sage  to  your  hand." 

,    But  Mrs.  Balfame,  like  all  artificial  people,  was  in 
tensely  secretive,  and  only  delivered  herself  of  the  un- 


150  MRS.     BALFAME 

varnished  truth  when  it  served  her  purpose  best.  She 
gave  a  little  feminine  shudder.  "  I  never  kept  a  pistol 
in  the  house.  If  I  had,  it  would  have  been  empty  — 
just  something  to  flourish  at  a  burglar." 

"Ah  —  yes.  I  was  going  to  say  that  I  was  glad 
of  that,  but  I  don't  know  that  it  matters.  If  you  had 
taken  a  revolver  out  that  night,  loaded  or  otherwise, 
and  confessed  to  it,  you  hardly  could  have  escaped  ar 
rest  by  this  time,  even  if  it  were  a  .38.  And  if  you 
confessed  to  going  out  into  the  dark  to  stalk  a  man 
without  one  —  that  would  make  your  adventure  look 
foolhardy  and  purposeless  — " 

It  was  evident  that  he  was  thinking  aloud.  She  in 
terrupted  him  sharply : 

"  But  you  believe  me  ?  " 

"  I  believe  every  word  you  say.  The  more  dif 
ferently  you  act  from  other  women,  the  more  natural 
you  seem  to  me.  But  I  think  you  were  dead  right  in 
suppressing  the  episode.  It  leads  nowhere  and  would 
incriminate  you." 

"  It  may  come  out  yet.  That  is  why  I  sent  for  you, 
not  because  I  was  afraid  of  those  reporters.  Frieda 
was  on  the  backstairs  that  night  when  I  came  in.  I 
thought  I  heard  a  sound  and  called  out.  I  told  Anna 
that  night  and  she  questioned  Frieda  indirectly  and  was 
satisfied  that  she  had  heard  nothing,  for  although  she 
had  come  home  early  with  a  toothache,  she  was  suffer 
ing  so  intensely  that  she  wouldn't  have  heard  if  the 
shot  had  been  fired  under  her  window.  So  I  dismissed 
such  misgivings  as  I  had  from  my  mind.  But  just 
after  those  reporters  left  she  came  up  to  my  room 
and  told  me  that  she  saw  me  come  in,  and  tried  to  black 
mail  me  for  five  hundred  dollars.  I  soon  made  her 


MRS.     BALFAME  151 

admit  that  she  had  not  seen  me ;  but  she  heard  me,  no 
doubt  of  that.  I  explained  logically  why  I  was  there  — 
after  a  drink  of  water,  and  that  I  called  out  to  her  be 
cause  I  thought  I  heard  some  one  try  the  door  —  but  if 
those  reporters  get  hold  of  her  — " 

His  face  looked  very  grim.  "  That  is  bad,  bad. 
By  the  way,  why  didn't  you  run  to  Balfame?  That 
would  seem  the  natural  thing — " 

"  I  was  suddenly  horribly  afraid.  I  think  I  knew 
he  was  dead  and  I  didn't  want  to  go  near  that.  I  ran 
like  a  dog  back  to  its  kennel." 

"  It  was  a  feminine  enough  thing  to  do."  For  the 
first  time  he  smiled,  and  his  voice,  which  had  insensibly 
grown  inquisitorial,  softened  once  more.  "  It  was  a 
dreadful  position  to  find  oneself  in  and  no  mistake. 
Your  instinct  was  right.  If  you  had  been  found  bend 
ing  over  him  —  still,  as  you  had  no  weapon  — " 

"  I  think  on  the  whole  it  would  have  been  better 
to  have  gone  to  him.  Of  course  that  is  what  I  should 
have  done  if  I  had  loved  him.  As  it  was,  I  ran  as  far 
from  him  as  I  could  get  — " 

"  Well,  don't  let  us  waste  time  discussing  the  ought 
to  have  beens.  Unless  some  one  can  prove  that  you 
were  out  that  night,  the  whole  incident  must  be  sup 
pressed.  If  you  are  arrested  on  any  trumped  up 
charge  —  and  the  district  attorney  is  keener  than  the 
reporters  —  you  must  stick  to  your  story.  By  the  way, 
why  didn't  you  tell  the  reporters  that  Frieda  was  in  the 
house  about  the  time  the  shot  was  fired  ?  " 

"  I  had  forgotten.  The  house  has  been  full  of  peo 
ple;  the  neighbourhood  has  lived  here;  I  have  noticed 
her  no  more  than  if  she  were  as  wooden  as  she  looks." 

"  Do  you  think  she  did  it?  " 


152  MRS.     BALFAME 

"  I  wish  I  could.  But  she  would  not  have  had  time 
to  get  into  the  house  before  I  did.  And  the  footsteps 
were  running  toward  the  lane  at  the  back  of  the 
grounds." 

"  She  is  one  of  the  swiftest  dancers  down  in  that 
hall  where  she  goes  with  her  crowd  every  Saturday 
night.  I  have  been  doing  a  little  sleuthing  on  my  own 
account,  but  I  can't  connect  her  up  with  Balfame." 

"  He  wouldn't  have  looked  at  her." 

"  You  never  can  tell.  A  man  will  often  look  quite 
hard  at  whatever  happens  to  be  handy.  But  she 
doesn't  appear  to  have  any  sweetheart,  although  she's 
been  in  the  country  for  four  years.  She  is  intimate 
in  the  home  of  Old  Dutch  and  goes  about  with  young 
Conrad,  but  he  is  engaged  to  some  one  else.  All  the 
boys  like  to  dance  with  her.  She  left  the  hall  suddenly 
and  ran  home  —  ostensibly  wild  with  a  toothache.  If 
she  hid  in  the  grove  to  kill  Balfame  she  could  have  got 
into  the  house  before  you  did.  .What  was  she  doing  on 
the  stair,  anyway  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  ask  her." 

"  She  may  have  been  too  out  of  breath  to  answer 
you.  Or  too  wary.  Those  other  footsteps  —  they 
may  have  been  those  of  an  accomplice;  the  man  who 
fired  the  other  pistol." 

"  But  I  would  have  seen  her  running  ahead  of  me." 

"  Not  necessarily.  It  was  very  dark.  Your  mind 
was  stunned.  You  may  have  hesitated  longer  than  you 
know  before  making  for  the  house.  One  is  liable  to 
powerful  inhibitions  in  great  crises.  Where  is  the 
girl?  I  think  I'll  have  her  in." 

He  walked  the  floor  nervously  while  Mrs.  Balfame 
went  out  to  the  kitchen.  Frieda  was  sitting  by  the 


MRS.     BALFAME  153 

stove  knitting.  Commanded  to  come  to  the  parlour, 
her  little  eyes  almost  closed,  but  she  followed  Mrs.  Bal- 
fame  and  confronted  Rush,  who  stood  in  the  middle  of 
the  room  looking  tall  and  formidable. 

"  I  am  Mrs.  Bal fame's  lawyer,"  he  said  without  pre 
amble.  "  She  sent  for  me  because  you  tried  to  black 
mail  her.  What  were  you  doing  on  the  stairs  when 
you  heard  Mrs.  Balfame  in  the  kitchen?  You  left 
the  dance  hall  sometime  before  eight,  and  that  could 
not  have  been  more  than  five  minutes  past." 

Frieda  pressed  her  big  lips  together  in  a  hard  line. 

"  Oh,  you  won't  speak.  Well,  if  you  don't  explain 
to  me,  you  will  to  the  Grand  Jury  to-morrow.  Or  I 
shall  get  out  a  warrant  to-night  for  your  arrest  as  the 
murderer  of  David  Balfame." 

"  Gott !  "  The  girl's  face  was  almost  purple.  She 
raised  her  knitting  needles  with  a  threatening  gesture 
that  was  almost  dramatic.  "  I  did  not  do  it.  She  has 
done  it." 

"  What  were  you  doing  on  the  stairs  ?  " 

"  I  would  heat  water  for  my  tooth." 

*'  Cold  water  is  the  thing  for  an  ulcerated  tooth." 

"  I  never  have  the  toothache  like  that  already.  I  am 
in  my  room  many  minutes  before  I  think  I  go  down. 
Then,  when  I  am  on  the  stairs  I  hear  Mrs.  Balfame 
come  in." 

"  She  has  explained  what  you  heard." 

"  No,  she  have  not.  I  think  so  when  we  have  talked 
this  evening,  but  not  now.  She  is  —  was,  I  mean,  all 
out  of  her  breath." 

"  I  was  terrified."  Mrs.  Balfame  retorted  so 
promptly  that  Rush  flashed  her  a  glance  of  admiration. 
Here  was  a  woman  who  could  take  care  of  herself  on 


154  MRS.     BALFAME 

the  witness  stand.  "  First  I  thought  I  heard  some  one 
trying  to  get  into  the  door,  and  then  some  one  sneaking 
up  the  stairs." 

"  Oh  —  yes."  Frieda's  tones  expressed  no  convic 
tion.  "  The  educated  lady  can  think  very  quick.  But 
I  say  that  she  have  come  in  by  the  door,  the  kitchen 
door.  Always  I  take  the  key  to  the  hall  door.  She 
know  that,  and  as  she  not  know  that  I  am  in,  she  go 
out  by  the  kitchen  door.  Always  in  the  daytime  when 
she  goes  to  the  yard  she  go  by  the  hall  door." 

"  What  a  pity  you  did  not  slam  the  door  when  you 
came  in.  It  would  have  been  quite  natural  as  you  were 
in  such  agony."  Rush  spoke  sarcastically,  but  he  was 
deeply  perturbed.  It  was  impossible  to  tell  whether 
the  girl  was  telling  the  truth  or  a  carefully  rehearsed 
story. 

"Of  course  you  know  that  if  you  tell  that  story  to 
the  police  you  will  get  yourself  into  serious  trouble." 

"  I  get  her  into  trouble." 

"  Mrs.  Balfame  is  above  suspicion.  It  is  not  my 
business  to  warn  you,  or  to  defeat  the  ends  of  the  law, 
of  which  apparently  you  know  nothing  — " 

"  I  know  someting.  Last  night  I  have  tell  Herf 
Kraus ;  and  he  say  that  since  I  have  told  the  coroner  I 
know  notings,  much  better  I  touch  the  lady  for  five 
hundert  and  go  home." 

"  O-h-h !  That  is  the  advice  Old  Dutch  gave  you ! 
Splendid!  I  think  the  best  thing  I  can  do  is  to  have 
you  arrested  bright  and  early  to-morrow  morning. 
Mrs.  Balfame  is  cleared  already.  You  may  go." 

She  stared  at  him  for  a  moment  out  of  eyes  that  spat 
fire  like  two  little  guns  in  the  top  of  a  fort;  then  she 
swung  herself  about  and  retreated  to  the  kitchen. 


MRS.    BALFAME  155 

"  That  ought  to  make  her  disappear  to-night.  Her 
friends  will  hide  her.  The  mere  fact  of  her  disappear 
ance  will  convince  the  police,  as  well  as  the  reporters, 
that  she  is  guilty.  You  are  all  right."  He  spoke 
boyishly,  and  his  face,  no  longer  rigid,  was  full  of  light. 

"But  if  she  is  innocent?" 

"  No  harm  done.  She'll  be  smuggled  out  of  the 
country  and  suspicion  permanently  diverted  from  you. 
That  is  all  I  care  about."  He  caught  her  hands  impul 
sively  in  his.  "  I  am  glad,  so  glad !  Oh !  —  It  is  too 
soon  now,  but  wait  — "  He  was  out  of  the  house  be 
fore  she  grasped  the  fact  that  he  had  arrested  himself 
on  the  brim  of  another  declaration. 

Mrs.  Balfame  went,  up  to  bed,  serene  once  more  in 
the  belief  that  her  future  was  her  own,  unclouded,  full 
of  attractive  possibilities  for  a  woman  of  her  position 
and  intellectual  attainments. 

She  made  up  her  mind  to  take  a  really  deep  course 
of  reading,  so  that  the  most  spiteful  should  not  call 
her  superficial ;  moreover,  she  had  been  conscious  more 
than  once  of  certain  mental  dissatisfactions,  of  uneasy 
vacancies  in  a  mind  sufficiently  awake  to  begin  to 
realise  the  cheapness  of  its  furnishings.  Perhaps  she 
would  take  a  course  in  history  at  Columbia,  another  in 
psychology. 

As  she  put  herself  into  a  sturdy  cotton  night-gown 
and  then  brushed  back  her  hair  from  a  rather  large 
forehead  before  braiding  it  severely  for  the  night,  she 
realised  dimly  that  that  way  happiness  might  lie,  that 
the  pleasures  of  the  intellectual  life  might  be  very  great 
indeed.  She  wished  regretfully  that  she  could  have 
been  brilliantly  educated  in  her  youth.  In  that  case 
she  would  not  have  married  a  man  who  would  incite 


156  MRS.     BALFAME 

any  spirited  woman  to  seek  the  summary  release,  but 
would  be  to-day  the  wife  of  a  judge,  perhaps  —  some 
fine  fellow  who  had  showed  the  early  promise  that 
Dwight  Rush  must  have  done.  If  she  could  attract 
one  man  like  that,  at  the  age  of  forty- two,  she  could 
have  had  a  dozen  in  her  train  when  young  if  she  had 
had  the  sense  to  appreciate  them. 

But  she  was  philosophical,  and  it  was  not  her  way  to 
quarrel  very  deeply  with  herself  or  with  life.  Her 
long  braids  were  as  evenly  plaited  as  ever. 

She  sank  into  sleep,  thinking  of  the  disagreeable 
necessity  of  making  the  kitchen  fire  in  the  morning  and 
cooking  her  own  breakfast.  Frieda  of  course  would  be 
gone. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  next  morning,  when  Mrs.  Balfame,  running 
lightly  down  the  back  stairs,  entered  the  kitchen 
half  an  hour  earlier  than  her  usual  appearance  in  the 
dining-room,  the  front  of  her  housefrock  covered  with 
a  large  apron  and  her  sleeves  pinned  to  the  elbow,  she 
beheld  Frieda  slicing  potatoes. 

"  Why !  "  The  exclamation  was  impetuous,  but  her 
quick  mind  adapted  itself.  "  I  woke  up  early  and 
thought  I  would  come  down  and  help,"  she  continued 
evenly.  '  You  have  had  so  much  to  do  of  late." 

Frieda  was  regarding  her  with  intense  suspicion. 
"  Never  you  have  done  that  before,"  she  growled. 
"  You  will  see  if  I  have  the  dishes  by  the  dinner 
washed." 

"  Nonsense.  And  everything  is  so  different  these 
days.  I  am  hungry,  too.  I  thought  it  would  be  nice 
to  hurry  breakfast." 

"  Breakfast  always  is  by  eight.  You  have  told  me 
that  when  I  come.  I  get  up  by  half  past  six.  First  I 
air  the  house  and  sweep  the  hall.  Then  I  make  the 
fire  and  put  the  water  to  boil.  Then  I  peel  the  po 
tatoes.  Then  I  make  the  biscuit.  Then  I  boil  the 
eggs.  Then  I  make  the  coffee  — " 

"  I  know.  You  are  marvellously  systematic.  But 
I  thought  you  might  make  the  coffee  at  once." 

"  Always  the  coffee  come  last."  Frieda  resumed 
her  task. 


158  MRS.    BALFAME 

"  But  I  don't  eat  potatoes  for  breakfast." 

"  I  eat  the  potatoes.  When  they  fry  in  the  pan,  then 
I  put  the  biscuit  in  the  oven.  Then  I  boil  the  eggs  and 
then  I  make  the  coffee.  Breakfast  is  by  eight  o'clock." 

Mrs.  Balfame,  with  a  good-humoured  laugh,  turned 
to  leave  the  kitchen.  But  her  mind,  alert  with  appre 
hension,  cast  up  a  memory,  vague  but  far  from  sooth 
ing.  "  By  the  way,  I  seem  to  remember  that  I  woke 
up  suddenly  in  the  night  and  heard  voices  down  here. 
Did  you  have  visitors  ?  " 

Frieda  flushed  the  deep  and  angry  red  of  her  infre 
quent  moments  of  embarrassment.  "  I  have  not  visi 
tors  in  the  night."  She  turned  on  the  water  tap,  which 
made  noise  enough  to  discourage  further  attempts  at 
conversation;  and  Mrs.  Balfame,  to  distract  her  mind, 
dusted  the  parlour.  She  dared  not  go  out  into  the  yard 
and  walk  off  her  restlessness,  for  there  were  now  two 
sentinels  preserving  what  they  believed  to  be  a  casual 
attitude  before  her  gate.  She  would  have  given  much 
to  know  whether  those  men  were  watching  her  move 
ments  or  those  of  her  servant. 

Immediately  after  breakfast,  the  systematic  Frieda 
was  persuaded  to  go  to  the  railway  station  and  buy  the 
New  York  papers  when  the  train  came  in.  Frieda 
might  be  a  finished  product  of  the  greatest  machine 
shop  the  world  has  ever  known,  but  she  was  young  and 
she  liked  the  bustle  of  life  at  the  station,  and  the  long 
walk  down  Main  Street,  so  different  from  the  aristo 
cratic  repose  of  Elsinore  Avenue.  Mrs.  Balfame, 
watching  behind  the  curtain,  saw  that  one  of  the  sen 
tinels  followed  her.  The  other  continued  to  lean 
against  the  lamp-post  whittling  a  stick.  Both  she  and 
Frieda  were  watched ! 


M>RS.     BALFAME  159 

But  the  disquiet  induced  by  the  not  unnatural  sur 
veillance  of  premises  identified  with  a  recent  crime 
was  soon  forgotten  in  the  superior  powers  of  the  New 
York  press  to  excite  both  disquiet  and  indignation. 

She  had  missed  a  photograph  of  herself  while  dust 
ing  the  parlour  and  had  forgiven  the  loyal  thief  as  it 
was  a  remarkably  pretty  picture  and  portrayed  a  woman 
sweet,  fashionable,  and  lofty.  To  her  horror  the  pic 
ture  which  graced  the  first  page  of  the  great  dailies 
was  that  of  a  hard  defiant  female,  quite  certain,  without 
a  line  of  letter  press,  to  prejudice  a  public  anxious  to 
believe  the  worst. 

Tears  of  outraged  vanity  blurred  her  vision  for  a 
few  moments  before  the  full  menace  of  that  silent  wit 
ness  took  possession  of  her.  She  knew  that  most 
people  deteriorated  under  the  mysterious  but  always 
fatal  encounter  of  their  photographs  with  the  "  staff 
artist,"  but  she  felt  all  the  sensations  of  the  outraged 
novice. 

A  moment  after  she  had  dashed  her  tears  away  she 
turned  pale;  and  when  she  finished  reading  the  inter 
views  the  beautiful  whiteness  of  her  skin  was  dis 
figured  by  a  greenish  pallor. 

The  interviews  were  written  with  a  devilish  cunning 
that  protected  the  newspapers  from  danger  of  libel  suit 
but  subtly  gave  the  public  to  understand  that  its  ap 
petite  for  a  towering  figure  in  the  Balfame  case  was 
about  to  be  gratified. 

There  was  no  doubt  that  two  shots  had  been  fired 
from  the  grove  simultaneously,  and  from  revolvers  of 
different  calibre  (picture  of  tree  and  gate). 

,Was  one  of  them  —  the  smaller  —  fired  by  a 
woman  ?  And  if  so,  by  what  woman  ? 


160  MRS.     BALFAME 

Not  one  of  the  females  whose  names  had  been  linked 
at  one  time  or  another  with  the  versatile  Mr.  Balfame 
but  had  proved  her  alibi,  and  so  far  as  was  known  —  al 
though  of  course  some  one  as  yet  unsuspected  may  have 
climbed  the  back  fence  and  hid  in  the  grove  —  the 
only  two  women  on  the  premises  were  the  widow  and 
her  extraordinarily  plain  servant. 

Balfame  was  shot  with  a  .41  revolver.  In  one  of 
the  newspapers  it  was  casually  and  not  too  politely 
remarked  that  Mrs.  Balfame  had  larger  hands  and  feet 
than  one  would  expect  from  her  general  elegance  of 
figure  and  aristocratic  features,  and  in  the  same 
rambling  sentence  (this  was  written  by  the  deeply  cal 
culating  Mr.  Broderick)  the  public  was  informed  that 
certain  footprints  might  have  been  those  of  a  large 
woman  or  of  a  medium  sized  man.  In  the  next  para 
graph  but  one  Mrs.  Bal fame's  stately  height  was  again 
commented  upon,  but  as  the  public  had  already  been 
informed  that  she  was  an  expert  at  target  practice, 
reiteration  of  this  fact  was  astutely  avoided. 

A  great  deal  was  said  here  and  there  of  her  com 
posure,  her  large  studiously  expressionless  grey  eyes, 
her  nimble  mind  that  so  often  routed  her  inquisitors, 
but  was  allied  to  a  temperament  of  ice  and  a  manifest 
power  of  cool  and  deliberate  calculation. 

The  dullest  reader  was  quickened  into  the  belief  that 
he  was  the  real  detective  and  that  his  unerring  sense 
had  carried  him  straight  to  the  woman  who  had  hated 
the  murdered  man  and  had  quarrelled  with  him  in  pub 
lic  a  few  hours  before  his  death. 

The  episode  of  Mrs.  Balfame's  offer  to  make  her 
husband  a  glass  of  doctored  lemonade  and  the  disap 
pearance  of  both  beverage  and  glass  was  not  men- 


MRS.     BALFAME  161 

tioned;  presumably  these  bright  young  men  did  not 
believe  in  digressions  or  in  rousing  a  curiosity  they 
might  not  be  able  to  appease.  The  interview  con 
cluded  with  a  maddening  hint  at  immediate  develop 
ments. 

Mrs.  Balfame  let  the  papers  drop  to  the  floor  one 
by  one;  when  she  had  finished  the  last  she  drew  her 
breath  painfully  for  several  moments.  The  room 
turned  black,  and  it  was  cut  by  rows  of  bared  and  men 
acing  teeth,  infinitely  multiplied. 

But  she  was  not  the  woman  to  give  way  to  fear  for 
long,  or  even  to  bewilderment.  There  could  be  no  real 
danger,  and  all  that  should  concern  her  was  the  out 
rageous,  the  intolerably  vulgar  publicity.  A  woman 
whose  good  taste  was  both  natural  and  cultivated,  she 
felt  this  ruthless  tossing  of  her  sacred  person  into  the 
public  maw  much  as  the  more  refined  octoroons  may 
have  felt  when  they  stood  on  the  auction  block  in  the 
good  old  days  down  South.  She  shuddered  and  gritted 
her  teeth ;  she  wished  that  she  were  a  hysterical  woman 
that  she  might  find  relief  in  shrieking  at  the  top  of  her 
voice  and  smashing  the  furniture. 

Why,  oh  why,  could  not  David  Balfame  have  been 
permitted  by  the  fate  which  had  decreed  his  end  on 
that  particular  night  to  enter  the  house  and  drink  the 
lemonade;  to  die  decently,  painlessly,  bloodlessly  (she 
shrank  aside  when  compelled  to  pass  those  blood  stains 
on  the  brick  path),  as  any  man  might  die  when  his  over 
taxed  heart  simply  stopped?  She  would  have  run 
down  the  moment  she  heard  the  fall,  she  would  have 
managed  to  get  the  glass  out  of  the  way  if  Frieda  had 
condescended  to  visit  the  scene,  which  was  quite 
unlikely.  She  would  have  run  over  to  Doctor 


162  MRS.     BALFAME 

Lequer,  who  lived  next  door  to  the  Gifnings,  and  he 
would  have  sent  for  the  coroner.  Both  inevitably 
would  have  pronounced  the  death  due  to  heart  failure. 
It  was  fate  that  had  bungled,  not  she. 

She  mused,  however,  that  she  should  have  had  a 
duplicate  glass  of  lemonade  to  leave  half  consumed 
on  the  table,  as  it  would  be  recalled  that  he  had  ex 
pected  to  imbibe  a  soothing  draught  immediately  upon 
his  return;  and  adjacent  liquids  invariably  induce  sus 
picion  in  cases  of  sudden  death.  But  that  did  not  mat 
ter  now. 

She  set  her  wits  to  work  upon  the  identity  of  her 
companion  in  the  grove.  Was  it  Frieda?  Or  an  ac 
complice  of  the  girl,  who  was  already  in  the  house  or 
on  the  alert  to  direct  him  out  by  the  rear  pathway? 
But  why  Frieda?  She  knew  the  raging  hate  that  had 
filled  her  husband  since  the  declaration  of  war,  and  she 
knew  that  his  rivals  in  politics  hated  him  with  increas 
ing  virulency;  as  they  were  beginning  to  hate  every 
body  that  presumed  to  question  the  right  and  might  of 
Germany. 

But  she  was  a  woman  just  and  sensible.  Nor  for  a 
moment  could  she  visualise  Old  Dutch  or  any  of  his 
tribe  shooting  David  Balfame  because  he  cursed  the 
Kaiser  and  sang  Tipperary.  The  supposition  was  too 
shallow  to  be  entertained. 

The  person  in  the  grove  had  been  either  a  bitter 
political  rival  too  intimate  with  the  local  police  to  be  in 
danger  of  arrest,  or  some  woman  who  for  a  time  may 
have  believed  herself  to  be  his  wife  in  the  larger  vil 
lage  of  New  York. 

She  could  have  sworn  that  that  stealthy  figure  so 
close  to  her  was  a  man,  but  women's  skirts  were  very 


MRS.     BALFAME  163 

narrow  and  silent  these  days,  and  after  all  she  her 
self  was  as  tall  as  the  average  man. 

Before  noon  the  house  was  filled  with  sympathising 
and  indignant  friends.  Cummack  came  up  town  to  as 
sure  her  that  it  was  a  shame;  and  he  would  ask  Rush  if 
those  New  York  papers  couldn't  be  had  up  for  libel. 
He'd  take  the  eleven-thirty  for  Dobton  and  consult 
with  him. 

The  ladies  were  knitting,  no  one  more  impersonally 
than  Mrs.  Balfame,  although  she  was  wondering  if 
these  kind  friends  expected  to  stay  to  lunch,  when 
an  automobile  drove  honking  up  to  the  door,  and  Mrs. 
Battle  teetered  over  to  the  window. 

"  For  the  land's  sake,"  she  exclaimed.  "  If  it  isn't 
the  deputy  sheriff  from  Dobton.  Now,  what  do  you 
suppose? " 

Mrs.  Balfame  stood  up  suddenly,  and  the  other 
women  sat  with  their  needles  suspended  as  if  suddenly 
overcome  by  a  noxious  gas,  with  the  exception  of  Mrs. 
Cummack,  who  ran  over  to  her  sister-in-law  and  put 
her  plump  arm  about  that  easily  compassed  waist. 
Mrs.  Balfame  drew  away  haughtily. 

"  I  am  not  frightened,"  she  said  in  her  sweet  cool 
voice.  "  I  am  prepared  for  anything  after  those  news 
papers  —  that  is  all." 

The  bell  pealed,  and  Mrs.  Gifning,  too  curious  to 
wait  upon  the  hand-maiden,  ran  out  and  opened  the 
front  door.  She  returned  a  moment  later  with  her 
little  blue  eyes  snapping  with  excitement. 

"  What  do  you  think?  "  she  gasped.  "  It  is  Frieda 
they  want.  She  is  being  subpoenaed  to  Dobton  to 
testify  before  the  Grand  Jury.  The  deputy  sheriff  is 
going  to  take  her  with  him." 


164  MRS.     BALFAME 

Mrs.  Balfame  returned  to  her  chair  with  such  com 
posure  that  no  one  suspected  the  sudden  weakening  of 
her  knees.  Instantly  she  realised  the  meaning  of  the 
voices  she  had  heard  in  the  night.  Frieda  had  been 
"  interviewed,"  either  by  the  press  or  the  police,  and 
induced,  probably  bribed,  to  talk.  No  wonder  she  had 
not  run  awray. 

But  she  too  resumed  her  knitting. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

YOUNG  Bruce  had  had  no  appetite  for  his 
part  in  the  Balfame  drama.  He  had  presented 
himself  at  the  back  door,  however,  at  eight  o'clock 
on  the  night  of  the  interview  with  the  heroine,  assum 
ing  that  Frieda  would  be  moving  at  her  usual  snail's 
pace  from  the  day  of  work  toward  the  evening  of 
leisure.  She  slammed  the  door  in  his  face. 

When  he  persisted,  thrusting  his  cherubic  counte 
nance  through  the  window,  she  threatened  him  with  the 
hose.  Neither  failure  daunted  him,  and  he  was  con 
vinced  that  she  knew  more  of  the  case  than  she  was 
willing  to  admit;  but  it  was  obvious  that  he  was  not 
the  man  to  appeal  to  the  fragment  of  heart  she  had 
brought  from  East  Prussia.  The  mere  fact  that  he 
looked  rather  German  and  yet  was  straight  American 
—  employed,  moreover,  by  a  newspaper  that  made  no 
secret  of  its  hostility  to  her  country  —  satisfied  him 
that  he  would  not  be  permitted  to  approach  her  closely 
enough  to  attempt  any  form  of  persuasion.  He  drew 
the  long  breath  of  deliverance  as  he  reached  this  con 
clusion;  the  bare  idea  that  he  might  have  to  bestow 
a  kiss  upon  Frieda  in  the  heroic  pursuit  of  duty  had 
induced  a  sensation  of  nausea.  He  was  an  extremely 
fastidious  young  man.  But  even  as  he  accepted  defeat 
with  mingled  relief  and  chagrin,  the  brilliant  alterna 
tive  occurred  to  him. 

He  had  ascertained  that  Frieda  was  intimate  in  the 

165 


166  MRS.     BALFAME 

home  of  Conrad  Kraus,  otherwise  "  Old  Dutch,"  of 
Dobton,  the  County  seat.  Conrad,  Jr.,  treated  her  as 
a  brother  should,  and  it  was  his  habit  to  escort  her  home 
from  the  popular  dance-hall  of  Elsinore  on  Saturday 
nights.  Bruce  had  no  difficulty  in  learning  that  the 
young  German-American  had  been  dancing  with  his 
favourite  partner  when  her  dead  nerve  seemed  to 
threaten  explosion  and  had  fraternally  run  home  with 
her.  The  energetic  reporter  did  not  wait  upon  the 
next  trolley  for  Dobton,  but  hired  an  automobile  and 
descended  in  front  of  Old  Dutch's  saloon  fifteen  min 
utes  later. 

Young  Kraus  was  busy;  and  Bruce,  after  ordering 
beer  and  cheese  and  taking  it  to  an  occupied  table, 
drew  the  information  from  a  neighbour  that  Conrad, 
Jr.,  would  be  on  duty  behind  the  bar  until  midnight. 
It  was  the  habit  of  Papa  Kraus  to  retire  promptly  on 
the  stroke  of  nine  and  take  his  entire  family,  save  Con 
rad,  with  him.  The  eldest  of  the  united  family  con 
tinued  to  assuage  the  thirst  of  the  neighbourhood  until 
twelve  o'clock,  when  he  shut  up  the  front  of  the  house 
and  went  to  bed  in  the  rear  as  quickly  as  possible;  he 
must  rise  betimes  and  clerk  in  the  leading  grocery-store 
of  the  town.  He  was  only  twenty-two,  but  thrifty  and 
hard-working  and  anxious  to  marry. 

Bruce  caught  the  next  train  for  New  York,  had  a 
brief  talk  with  his  city  editor,  and  returned  to  Dobton 
a  few  moments  before  the  closing  hour  of  the  saloon. 
He  hung  about  the  bar  until  the  opportunity  came  to 
speak  to  Conrad  unheard. 

"  I  want  a  word  with  you  as  soon  as  you  have  shut 
up,"  he  said  without  preamble. 

The  young  German  scowled  at  the  reporter.     Al- 


MRS.     BALFAME  167 

though  a  native  son  of  Dobton,  he  resented  the  attitude 
of  the  American  press  as  deeply  as  his  irascible  old 
father,  and  he  still  more  deeply  resented  the  suspicion 
that  had  hovered  for  a  moment  over  the  house  of 
Kraus. 

"  Don't  get  mad  till  you  hear  what  I've  got  to  say," 
whispered  Bruce.  "  There  may  be  a  cool  five  hundred 
in  it  for  you." 

Conrad  glanced  at  the  clock.  It  was  five  minutes  to 
twelve.  He  stood  as  immobile  as  his  duties  would  per 
mit  until  the  stroke  of  midnight,  when  he  turned  out 
the  last  reluctant  patron,  locked  the  door  and  followed 
the  reporter  down  the  still-illuminated  street  to  a  dark 
avenue  in  the  residence  quarter.  Then  the  two  fell  into 
step. 

"  Now,  what  is  it  ?  "  growled  Conrad,  who  did  not 
like  to  have  his  habits  disturbed.  "  I  get  up  — " 

"  That's  all  right.  I  won't  keep  you  fifteen  minutes. 
I  want  you  to  tell  me  all  you  know  about  the  night 
of  the  Balfame  murder." 

He  had  taken  the  young  German's  arm  and  felt  it 
stiffen.  "  I  know  nothing,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  do.  You  took  Frieda  home  and  got 
there  some  little  time  before  the  shooting.  You  went 
in  the  side  entrance  to  the  back  yard,  but  you  could  see 
the  grove  all  right." 

"  It  was  a  black-dark  night.  I  could  see  nothing  in 
the  grove." 

"  Ah !  You  saw  something  else !  You  have  been 
afraid  to  speak  out,  as  there  had  been  talk  of  your 
father  having  employed  gun-men  — " 

"  Such  lies !  "  shrieked  young  Kraus. 

"Of  course!     I   know  that.     So  does   the  press. 


168  MRS.    BALFAME 

That  was  a  wild  dream  of  the  police.  But  all  the  same 
you  thought  it  wouldn't  be  a  bad  idea  to  keep  clear  of 
the  whole  business.  That  is  true.  Don't  attempt  to 
deny  it.  You  saw  something  that  would  put  the  law 
on  the  right  track.  Now,  what  was  it?  There  are 
five  hundred  dollars  waiting  for  you  if  you  will  tell  the 
truth.  I  don't  want  anything  but  the  truth,  mind  you. 
I  don't  represent  a  paper  that  pays  for  lies,  so  your 
honour  is  quite  safe.  So  also  are  you." 

Conrad  ruminated  for  a  few  moments.  He  was 
literal  and  honest  and  wanted  to  be  quite  positive  that 
he  was  not  asked  to  do  something  which  would  make 
him  feel  uncomfortable  while  investing  those  desirable 
five  hundred  dollars  in  West  Elsinore  town  lots,  and 
could  reassure  himself  that  the  truth  was  always  right 
whether  commercially  valuable  or  not.  He  balanced 
the  pro's  and  con's  so  long  that  Bruce  was  about  to 
break  out  impatiently  just  as  he  made  up  his  mind. 

"  Yes,  I  saw  something.  But  I  wished  to  say  noth 
ing.  They  might  say  that  I  was  in  it,  or  that  I  lied  to 
protect  Frieda — " 

"  That's  all  right.  There  was  no  possible  connec 
tion  between  her  and  Balfame  — " 

Conrad  went  on  exactly  as  if  the  reporter  had  not 
interrupted.  "  I  had  seen  Frieda  through  the  back 
door.  She  was  crying  with  the  toothache,  and  I  heard 
her  run  upstairs.  I  thought  I  would  wait  a  few  mo 
ments.  The  drops  she  said  she  had  might  not  cure  her, 
and  she  might  want  me  to  go  to  a  dentist's  house  with 
her.  She  had  gone  in  the  back-hall  door.  Suddenly 
I  saw  the  kitchen  door  open,  and  as  I  was  starting  for 
ward,  I  saw  that  it  was  not  Frieda  who  came  out. 
It  was  Mrs.  Balfame.  She  closed  the  door  behind  her, 


MRS.     BALFAME  169 

and  then  crept  past  me  to  the  back  of  the  kitchen  yard. 
I  watched  her  and  saw  her  turn  suddenly  and  walk 
toward  the  grove.  She  did  not  make  a  particle  of 
noise  — " 

"  How  do  you  know  it  was  not  Frieda?  " 
"  Frieda  is  five- feet-three,  and  this  was  a  tall  woman, 
taller  than  I,  and  I  am  five-eight.  I  have  seen  Mrs. 
Balfame  many  times,  and  though  I  couldn't  see  her 
face, —  she  had  a  dark  veil  or  scarf  round  it, —  I  knew 
her  height  and  walk.  Of  course  I  watched  to  see  what 
she  was  up  to.  A  few  moments  later  I  heard  Balfame 
turn  in  from  Dawbarn  Street,  singing,  like  the  fool  he 
was,  '  Tipperary,'  and  then  I  heard  a  shot.  I  guessed 
that  Balfame  had  got  what  was  coming  to  him,  and  I 
didn't  wait  to  see.  I  tiptoed  for  a  minute  or  two  and 
then  ran  through  the  next  four  places  at  the  back,  and 
then  out  toward  Balfame  Street,  for  the  trolley.  But 
Frieda  heard  Mrs.  Balfame  when  she  came  in.  She 
was  all  out  of  breath,  and,  when  she  heard  a  sound  on 
the  stairs,  called  out  before  she  thought,  I  guess,  and 
asked  Frieda  if  she  had  heard  anything.  But  Frieda 
is  very  cautious.  She  had  heard  the  shot,  but  she  froze 
stiff  against  the  wall  when  she  heard  Mrs.  Balfame's 
voice,  and  said  nothing.  We  told  her  afterwards  that 
she  had  better  keep  quiet  for  the  present." 
"  And  you  think  Mrs.  Balfame  did  it?  " 
"  Who  else?  I  shall  not  be  so  sorry  if  she  goes  to 
the  chair,  for  a  woman  should  always  be  punished 
the  limit  for  killing  a  man,  even  such  a  man  as  Bal 
fame." 

"  No  fear  of  that,  but  we'll  have  a  dandy  case.  You 
tell  that  story  to  the  Grand  Jury  to-morrow,  and  you 
get  your  five  hundred  before  night.  Now  you  must 


iyo  MRS.     BALFAME 

come  and  get  me  a  word  with  Frieda.  She  won't  look 
at  me,  and  of  course  she  is  in  bed  anyhow.  But  I 
must  tell  her  there  are  a  couple  of  hundred  in  this  for 
her  if  she  comes  through  — " 

"  But  she'll  be  arrested  for  perjury.  She  testified  at 
the  coroner's  inquest  that  she  knew  nothing." 

"  An  abscessed  tooth  will  explain  her  reticence  on 
any  other  subject." 

"  Perhaps  I  should  tell  you  that  she  came  to  see  us 
to-night  —  last  night  it  is  now,  not  ?  —  and  told  my 
papa  that  Lawyer  Rush  had  frightened  her,  told  her 
that  she  might  be  accused  of  the  killing,  that  she  had 
better  get  out.  But  Papa  advised  her  to  go  home  and 
fear  nothing,  where  there  was  nothing  to  fear.  He 
knew  that  if  she  ran  away,  he  would  be  suspected  again, 
the  girl  being  intimate  in  the  family;  and  of  course 
the  police  would  be  hot  on  her  trail  at  once.  So,  like 
the  good  sensible  girl  she  is,  she  took  the  advice  and 
went  home." 

"  All  right.  Come  along.  I'm  not  on  the  morning 
paper,  but  I  promised  the  story  to  the  boys  if  I  could 
get  it  in  time." 

He  hired  another  automobile,  and  they  left  it  at  the 
corner  of  Dawbarn  and  Orchard  Streets,  entering  the 
Balfame  place  by  the  tradesmen's  gate  on  the  left,  and 
creeping  to  the  rear  of  the  house.  The  lane  behind 
the  four  acres  of  the  little  estate  was  full  of  ruts  and 
too  far  away  from  the  house  for  adventuring  on  a  dark 
night.  They  had  been  halted  by  the  detective  on 
watch,  but  when  their  errand  was  hastily  explained,  he 
joined  forces  with  them  and  even  climbed  a  lean-to 
in  the  endeavour  to  rouse  Miss  Appel  from  her  young 
and  virtuous  slumbers.  Their  combined  efforts  cov- 


MRS.     BALFAME  171 

ered  three  hours ;  and  that  explains  why  the  tremendous 
news-story  appeared  in  the  early  edition  of  the  after 
noon  papers  instead  of  whetting  several  million  morn 
ing  appetites. 

The  interview  with  Frieda,  who  became  very  wide 
awake  when  the  unseemly  intrusion  was  elucidated  by 
the  trustworthy  Conrad,  and  bargained  for  five  hun 
dred  dollars,  explains  why  Mrs.  Balfame  spent  Thurs 
day  night  in  the  County  Jail  behind  Dobton  Court 
house. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

T  Y  THEN  the  Dobton  sheriff  and  his  deputies  came 
\ \  to  arrest  Mrs.  Balfame,  the  wife  of  their  old 
comrade  in  arms,  all  they  were  able  to  tell  her  was  that 
the  District  Attorney  had  applied  for  the  warrant  im 
mediately  after  the  testimony  before  the  Grand  Jury 
of  Frieda  Appel  and  of  the  Krauses,  father  and  son. 
What  that  testimony  had  been  they  could  not  have  told 
her  if  they  would,  but  that  it  had  been  strong  and  cor 
roborative  enough  to  insure  her  indictment  by  the 
Grand  Jury  was  as  manifest  as  it  was  ominous. 

They  arrived  just  as  Mrs.  Balfame  was  about  to 
leave  the  house  to  lunch  with  Mrs.  Cummack;  Frieda 
had  left  long  before  it  was  time  to  prepare  the  midday 
meal.  Mr.  Cramb,  the  sheriff,  shut  the  door  behind 
him  and  in  the  faces  of  the  indignant  women  reporters, 
who,  less  ruthless  but  equally  loyal  to  their  journals, 
wanted  a  "  human  interest "  story  for  the  stimulated 
public.  Mrs.  Balfame  and  her  friends  retreated  before 
the  posse  into  the  parlour.  Mrs.  Battle  wept  loudly; 
Alys  Crumley,  who  had  come  in  with  her  mother  a  few 
moments  since,  fell  suddenly  on  a  chair  in  the  corner 
and  pressed  her  hands  against  her  mouth,  her  horrified 
eyes  staring  at  Mrs.  Balfame.  The  other  women  shed 
tears  as  the  equally  doleful  sheriff  explained  his  errand 
and  read  the  warrant.  Mrs.  Balfame  alone  was  calm. 
She  exerted  herself  supremely  and  sent  so  peremptory 
a  message  along  her  quaking  nerves  that  it  benumbed 

172 


MRS.     BALFAME  173 

them  for  the  moment.  She  had  only  a  faint  sense  of 
drama,  but  a  very  keen  one  of  her  own  peculiar  posi 
tion  in  her  little  world,  and  she  knew  that  in  this  grisly 
crisis  of  her  destiny  she  was  expected  to  behave  as  a 
brave  and  dignified  woman  should  —  a  woman  of 
whom  her  friends  could  continue  to  exult  as  head  and 
shoulders  above  the  common  mass.  She  rose  to  the 
occasion. 

"  Don't  you  worry  —  just!"  said  Mr.  Cramb,  pat 
ting  her  shoulder,  although  he  never  had  had  the  temer 
ity  to  offer  her  his  hand  before,  and  had  often  "  pitied 
Dave."  "  They  lied,  them  Duytchers,  for  some  reason 
or  other,  but  they  can't  really  have  nothin'  on  you,  and 
we'll  find  out  what  they're  up  to,  double  quick." 

"  I  do  not  worry,"  said  Mrs.  Balfame  coldly, 
" —  although  quite  naturally  I  object  to  the  humiliation 
of  arrest,  and  of  spending  even  a  night  in  jail.  Ex 
actly  what  is  the  charge  against  me?  " 

The  sheriff  crumpled  his  features  and  cleared  his 
throat.  "  Well,  it's  murder,  I  guess.  It's  an  ugly 
word,  but  words  don't  mean  nothin'  when  there's 
nothin'  in  them." 

"  In  the  first  degree?  "  shrieked  Mrs.  Gifning. 

Cramb  nodded. 

"And  it  don't  admit  of  bail?"  Mrs.  Frew's  eyes 
rolled  wildly. 

"  Nothin'  doinV 

Mrs.  Balfame  rose  hurriedly.  There  was  a  horrid 
possibility  of  contagion  in  this  room  surcharged  with 
emotion.  She  kissed  each  of  her  friends  in  turn.  "  It 
will  be  all  right,  of  course,"  she  reminded  them  gently. 
"  Only  men  could  be  taken  in  by  such  a  plot,  and  of 
course  there  are  a  lot  of  Germans  on  the  Grand  Jury- 


174  MRS.     BALFAME 

—  there  are  so  many  in  this  county.  I  shall  have  an 
excellent  lawyer,  Dave's  friend,  Mr.  Rush.  And  I  am 
sure  that  I  shall  be  quite  comfortable  in  the  County 
Jail  —  it  is  so  nice  and  new."  But  she  shuddered  at 
the  vision,  in  spite  of  her  fine  self-control. 

"  You'll  be  treated  like  a  queen,"  interposed  the 
sheriff  hastily.  He  was  proud  of  her,  and  immensely 
relieved  that  he  was  not  to  escort  an  hysterical  prisoner 
five  miles  to  the  County  Seat.  "You'll  have  the 
Warden's  own  suite,  and  I  guess  you'll  be  able  to  see 
your  friends  right  along.  Guess  we'd  better  be  gettin' 
on." 

As  Mrs.  Balfame  was  leaving  the  room,  her  eyes  met 
the  horrified  and  puzzled  gaze  of  Alys  Crumley,  and 
one  of  those  obscure  instincts  that  dart  out  of  the  sub 
conscious  mind  like  memories  of  old  experiences  re 
leased  under  high  mental  pressure,  made  her  put  out 
her  hand  impulsively  and  draw  the  girl  to  her. 

"  I  can  always  be  sure  of  your  trust,"  she  whis 
pered.  "  Won't  you  come  up  and  help  me  pack?  " 

Alys  followed  unresisting :  the  blow  had  been  so  sud 
den;  she  had  believed  so  little  in  the  power  of  the  law 
to  touch  a  woman  like  Mrs.  Balfame,  and  even  less 
that  she  committed  the  crime;  for  the  moment  she 
forgot  her  jealous  hostility,  remembered  only  that  the 
best  friend  of  her  mother  and  of  her  own  childhood 
was  in  dire  straits. 

Mrs.  Cummack  had  run  up  ahead  and  was  carry 
ing  two  suitcases  from  the  large  closet  to  the  bed  as 
they  entered.  Her  face  was  burning  and  tear-stained, 
but  she  was  one  of  those  highly  efficient  women  of  the 
home  that  rise  automatically  to  every  emergency  and 
act  while  others  consider.  "  Glad  you've  come  too," 


MRS.     BALFAME  175 

she  said  to  Alys.  "  Open  those  drawers  in  the  bureau, 
and  I'll  pick  out  what's  needed.  Of  course  the  ridicu 
lous  charge  will  be  dismissed  in  a  day  or  two  —  but 
still!  Well,  if  they're  all  idiots  down  there  at  Dobton, 
we  can  come  over  here  and  pack  a  trunk  later.  To  take 
it  now  would  be  nonsense,  and  Sam'll  move  heaven 
and  earth  to  get  them  to  accept  bail.  You  just  put  on 
your  best  black,  Enid,  and  wear  your  veil  so  they  can't 
snapshot  you." 

While  she  was  gasping  on,  Mrs.  Balfame,  whose 
brain  had  never  worked  more  clearly,  went  into  the 
bathroom  and  emptied  the  contents  of  an  innocent 
looking  medicine  bottle  into  the  drain  of  the  wash- 
stand.  She  feared  young  Broderick  more  than  she 
feared  the  district  attorney,  who,  after  all,  had  been 
her  husband's  friend  —  had,  in  fact,  eaten  all  of  his 
political  crumbs  out  of  that  lavish  but  discriminating 
hand.  She  recalled  that  she  had  always  been  gracious 
to  him  (at  her  husband's  request,  for  she  regarded  him 
as  a  mere  worm)  when  he  had  dined  at  her  table,  and 
felt  sure  that  he  would  favour  her  secretly,  whatever  his 
obvious  duty.  Moreover,  he  was  of  those  that  spat  at 
the  very  mention  of  the  powerful  Kraus,  and  would 
gladly,  especially  since  the  outbreak  of  the  war,  have 
run  him  out  of  the  community. 

Mrs.  Balfame,  being  a  brilliant  exponent  of  that 
type  which  enjoys  the  unwavering  admiration  and  loy 
alty  of  its  own  sex,  had  a  corresponding  belief  in  her 
friends,  and  rarely  if  ever  had  used  the  word  cat  de 
notatively.  She  called  out  the  best  in  women  as  they 
of  a  certainty  called  out  the  best  in  her.  Therefore,  it 
did  not  occur  to  her  either  to  close  the  bathroom  door 
or  to  glance  behind  her.  Alys  Crumley,  standing  be- 


176  MRS.     BALFAME 

fore  the  bureau  and  happening  to  look  into  the  mirror, 
saw  her  empty  and  rinse  the  bottle.  The  suspicions  of 
Broderick  regarding  the  glass  of  lemonade  flashed  into 
the  young  artist's  mind ;  and  from  that  moment  she  be 
lieved  in  the  guilt  of  Mrs.  Balfame. 

Although  her  hands  were  shaking  Alys  lifted  from 
the  lavender-scented  drawers  the  severely  chaste  under 
wear  of  the  leader  of  Elsinore  society,  and  as  soon  as 
the  suitcases  were  packed,  she  made  haste  to  adjust 
Mrs.  Bal fame's  veil  and  pin  it  so  firmly  that  no  more 
kisses  could  be  exchanged.  Of  her  ultimate  purpose 
Alys  had  not  the  ghost  of  an  idea,  but  kiss  a  woman 
whom  she  believed  to  be  guilty  of  murder  and  whom 
she  might  possibly  be  driven  to  betray,  she  would  not. 
Suddenly  grown  as  secretive  as  if  she  had  a  crime  of 
her  own  to  conceal,  she  even  walked  out  to  the  car  with 
Mrs.  Balfame  and  helped  to  drive  away  the  crowding 
newspaper  women,  several  of  whom  she  recognised. 
They  in  turn  bore  her  off,  determined  to  get  some  sort 
of  a  story  for  the  issues  of  the  morrow. 


CHAPTER  XX 

MRS.  BALFAME  was  whirled  to  Dobton  in  ten 
minutes  —  herself,  she  fancied,  the  very  centre 
of  a  whirlwind.  The  automobile  was  pursued  by  three 
cars  containing  members  of  the  press,  which  shot  past 
just  before  they  reached  Dobton  Courthouse,  that  the 
occupants  might  leap  out  and  fix  their  cameras.  Other 
men  and  women  of  the  press  stood  before  the  locked 
gate  of  the  jail  yard,  several  holding  cameras.  But 
once  more  the  reading  public  was  forced  to  be  content 
with  an  appetising  news-story  illustrated  by  a  tall  black 
mummy. 

Mrs.  Balfame  walked  past  them  holding  her  clenched 
hands  under  her  veil,  but  to  all  appearance  composed 
and  indifferent.  The  sob-sisters  were  enthusiastic,  and 
the  men  admired  and  disliked  her  more  than  ever. 
Your  true  woman  always  weeps  when  in  trouble,  just 
as  she  blushes  and  trembles  when  a  man  selects  her  to 
be  his  comforter  through  life. 

The  Warden  and  his  wife,  who  but  a  few  weeks 
since  had  moved  into  their  new  quarters,  had  moved  out 
again  without  a  murmur  and  with  an  unaccustomed 
thrill.  What  a  blessed  prospect  after  screaming 
drunks,  drug-fiends  and  tame  commercial  sinners ! 

The  doors  clanged  shut;  Mrs.  Balfame  mounted  the 
stairs  hastily,  and  was  still  composed  enough  to  exclaim 
with  pleasure  and  to  thank  the  Warden's  wife,  Mrs. 

177 


178  MRS.     BALFAME 

Larks,  when  she  saw  that  flowers  were  on  the  table 
and  even  on  the  window-sills. 

"  I  guess  you'll  stand  it  all  right,"  said  Mrs.  Larks 
proudly.  "  Just  make  yourself  at  home  and  I'll  have 
your  lunch  up  in  a  jiffy." 

Mrs.  Cummack  and  Mrs.  Gifning  had  come  in  the 
car  with  Mrs.  Balfame,  and  Cummack  and  several 
other  men  of  standing  arrived  almost  immediately  to 
assure  her,  with  pale  disturbed  faces,  that  they  were 
doing  their  best  to  get  her  out  on  bail.  While  she  was 
trying  to  eat  her  lunch,  the  telephone  bell  rang,  and  her 
set  face  became  more  animated  as  she  recognised 
Rush's  strong  confident  voice.  He  had  read  the  news 
in  the  early  edition  of  the  afternoon  papers,  in  New 
York,  telephoned  to  Dobson  and  found  that  his  imme 
diate  fear  was  realised  and  that  she  was  in  the  County 
Jail.  He  commanded  her  to  keep  up  her  spirits  and 
promised  to  be  with  her  at  four  o'clock. 

Then  she  begged  her  friends  to  go  and  let  her  rest 
and  sleep  if  possible;  they  knew  just  how  serious  that 
consultation  with  her  lawyer  must  be.  When  she  was 
alone,  however,  she  picked  up  the  telephone,  which 
stood  on  a  side  table,  and  called  up  the  office  of  Dr. 
Anna  Steuer.  Ever  since  her  arrest  she  had  been  dully 
conscious  of  her  need  of  this  oldest  and  truest  of  her 
friends.  It  came  to  her  with  something  of  a  shock 
as  she  sat  waiting  for  Central  to  connect,  that  she  had 
leaned  upon  this  strong  and  unpretentious  woman  far 
more  than  her  calm  self-satisfied  mind  had  ever  ad 
mitted. 

Dr.  Anna's  assistant  answered  the  call,  and  when 
she  heard  Mrs.  Bal fame's  voice  broke  down  and  wept 
loudly. 


MRS.     BALFAME  179 

"  Oh,  do  be  quiet,"  said  Mrs.  Balfame  impatiently. 
"  I  am  in  no  danger  whatever.  Connect  me  with  the 
Doctor." 

"  Oh,  it  ain't  only  that.  Poor  —  poor  Doctor ! 
She's  been  all  in  for  days,  and  this  morning  she  just 
collapsed,  and  I  sent  for  Dr.  Lequeur,  and  he  pro 
nounced  it  typhoid  and  sent  for  the  ambulance  and  had 
her  taken  out  to  Brabant  Hospital.  The  last  thing  she 
said  —  whispered  —  was  to  be  sure  not  to  bother  you, 
that  you  would  hear  it  soon  enough  — " 

Mrs.  Balfame  hung  up  the  receiver,  which  had  almost 
fallen  from  her  shaking  hand.  She  turned  cold  with 
terror.  Anna  ill!  And  when  she  most  wanted  her! 
A  little  window  in  her  brain  opened  reluctantly,  and 
superstition  crept  in.  Beyond  that  open  window  she 
seemed  to  hear  the  surge  of  a  furious  and  irresistible 
tide.  Had  it  been  waiting  all  these  years  to  overleap 
the  barriers  about  her  well  ordered  life  and  sweep  her 
into  chaos?  She  frowned  and  put  her  thoughts  more 
colloquially.  Had  her  luck  changed?  Was  Fate 
against  her?  When  she  thought  of  Dwight  Rush,  it 
was  only  to  shrink  again.  If  anything  happened  to  him 
—  and  why  not  ?  Men  were  killed  every  day  by  auto 
mobiles,  and  he  had  an  absentminded  way  of  walk 
ing — 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  and  paced  up  and  down  the 
two  rooms  of  the  suite,  determined  upon  composure, 
and  angry  with  herself.  She  recovered  her  mental  bal 
ance  (so  rarely  disturbed  by  imaginative  flights),  but 
her  spirits  were  at  zero ;  and  she  was  sitting  with  her 
elbows  on  her  knees,  her  hands  pressed  to  her  face  when 
Rush  entered  promptly  at  four  o'clock.  He  was 
startled  at  the  face  she  lifted.  It  looked  older  but  in- 


i8o  MRS.     BALFAME 

definably  more  attractive.  Her  inviolable  serenity  had 
irritated  even  him  at  times,  although  she  was  his  inno 
cent  ideal  of  a  great  lady. 

The  Warden,  who  had  unlocked  the  door,  left  them 
alone,  and  Rush  sat  down  and  took  both  her  hands  in 
his  warm  reassuring  grasp. 

"  You  are  not  to  be  the  least  bit  frightened,"  he.  said. 
"  The  great  thing  for  you  to  remember  is  that  your  hus 
band's  political  crowd  rules,  and  simply  laughs  at  your 
arrest.  They  are  more  positive  than  ever  that  some 
political  enemy  did  it.  Bal fame's  temper  was  growing 
shorter  and  shorter,  and  he  had  many  enemies,  even  in 
his  own  party.  But  the  crowd  will  pull  every  wire  to 
get  you  off,  and  they  can  pull  wires,  all  right  — " 

"  But  on  what  evidence  am  I  arrested  ?  What  did 
those  abominable  people  say  to  the  Grand  Jury?  Am 
I  never  to  know  ?  " 

"  Well,  rather.  It's  all  in  the  afternoon  papers,  for 
one  of  the  reporters  got  the  evidence  before  the  Grand 
Jury  did." 

He  had  taken  off  his  overcoat,  and  he  crossed  the 
room  and  took  from  a  pocket  a  copy  of  The  Evening 
News.  She  glanced  over  it  with  her  lips  drawn  back 
from  her  teeth.  It  contained  not  only  the  story  the  en 
terprising  Mr.  Bruce  had  managed  to  obtain  from 
Frieda  and  Conrad  Jr.,  but  a  corroboration  of  the 
maid's  assertion  that,  warned  by  the  family  friend  and 
lawyer,  Mr.  Dwight  Rush,  to  disappear,  she  had  gone 
to  Papa  Kraus  for  advice.  Not  a  word,  however,  of 
blackmail. 

"  So  the  public  believes  already  that  I  am  a  mur 
deress  !  No  doubt  I  should  be  convinced  as  readily  my- 


MRS.     BALFAME  181 

self.  It  is  all  so  adroit !  "  Mrs.  Balfame  spoke  quietly 
but  with  intense  bitterness.  "  I  suppose  I  must  be  tried 
—  more  and  still  more  publicity.  No  one  will  ever 
forget  it.  Do  you  suppose  it  is  true  young  Kraus  saw 
me  that  night?" 

"God  knows!" 

He  got  up  again  and  moved  nervously  about  the 
room.  "  I  wish  I  could  be  sure.  That  is  the  point  to 
which  I  must  give  the  deepest  consideration  —  whether 
you  are  to  admit  or  not  that  you  went  out.  The 
Grand  Jury  and  Gore  believe  it.  Young  Kraus  has  a 
very  good  name.  Frieda  has  always  been  well  be 
haved.  There  are  six  Germans  on  the  Grand  Jury, 
moreover.  We  must  see  that  none  get  on  the  trial 
jury.  Gore  wants  to  believe  — " 

"  But  he  was  a  friend  of  Dave's." 

"  Exactly.  He  is  making  much  of  that  point.  Af 
fects  to  be  filled  with  righteous  wrath  because  you  killed 
his  dear  old  friend.  Trust  a  district  attorney.  All 
they  care  for  is  to  win  out,  and  he  has  his  spurs  to  win, 
in  the  bargain.  I  met  him  a  few  moments  ago ;  he  was 
about  equally  full  of  gin  fizzes  and  the  '  indisputable 
fact '  that  you  are  the  only  person  in  sight  with  a  mo 
tive.  Oh,  don't!  Don't!" 

Mrs.  Balfame  had  broken  down.  She  flung  her 
arms  over  the  table  and  her  head  upon  them.  More 
than  once  in  her  life  she  had  shed  tears  both  diplomatic 
and  spontaneous,  but  for  the  first  time  since  she  was  a 
child  she  sobbed  heavily.  She  felt  forlorn,  deserted, 
in  awful  straits. 

"Anna  is  ill,"  she  articulated.  "Anna!  My  one 
real  friend  —  the  only  one  that  has  meant  anything  to 


182  MRS.     BALFAME 

me.  Life  has  gone  pretty  well  with  me.  Now  every 
thing  is  changed.  I  know  that  terrible  things  are  about 
to  happen  to  me." 

"  Not  while  I  am  alive.  I  heard  of  Dr.  Anna's  ill 
ness  on  my  way  to  New  York.  Lequeur  was  on  the 
train.  You  —  you  must  let  me  take  her  place.  I  am 
devoted  to  you  heart  and  soul.  You  surely  know 
that." 

"  But  you  are  not  a  woman.  It's  a  woman  friend  I 
want  now,  a  strong  one  like  Anna.  Those  other 
women  —  oh,  yes,  they're  devoted  to  me  —  have  been, 
but  they've  suddenly  ceased  to  count,  somehow.  Be 
sides,  they'll  soon  believe  me  guilty.  I  hate  them  all. 
Only  Anna  would  have  understood  —  and  believed." 

Rush  had  been  administering  awkward  little  pats  to 
the  soft  masses  of  her  hair.  Suddenly  he  realised  that 
his  faith  in  her  complete  innocence  was  by  no  means  as 
stable  as  it  had  been;  she  had  confessed  to  him  that  she 
had  been  in  the  grove  that  night  stalking  the  intruder. 
How  absurd  to  believe  that  she  had  gone  out  unarmed. 
He  had  read  the  circumstantial  details  of  the  reporter's 
interviews  with  Frieda  and  young  Kraus.  While  the 
writers  were  careful  not  to  make  the  downright  asser 
tion  that  Mrs.  Balfame  had  fired  the  fatal  shot,  the 
public  saw  her  in  the  act  of  levelling  one  of  the  pistols 
—  so  mighty  is  the  power  of  the  trained  and  ruthless 
pen. 

As  he  stood  looking  down  upon  his  unexpected  sur 
render  to  emotional  excitement,  he  asked  himself  delib 
erately  :  What  more  natural,  if  she  had  a  pistol  in  her 
hand  and  that  low-lived  creature  presented  himself 
abruptly  and  alone,  than  that  it  should  go  off  of  its  own 
accord,  so  to  speak,  whether  hers  had  been  the  bullet 


MRS.     BALFAME  183 

to  penetrate  that  loathsome  target  or  not?  If  so,  what 
had  she  done  with  the  pistol  ? 

He  sat  down  and  laid  his  hand  firmly  on  her  arm. 

"  There  is  something  I  must  tell  you.  It  is  some 
thing  Frieda  forgot  to  tell  the  reporter,  but  she  gave 
it  to  the  Grand  Jury.  With  the  help  of  a  couple  of  ex 
tra  gin  fizzes,  I  extracted  it  from  Gore.  It  is  this: 
she  told  the  Grand  Jury  that  several  times  when  she  did 
her  weekly  cleaning  upstairs  she  saw  a  pistol  in  the 
drawer  of  a  table  beside  your  bed.  Will  —  won't  you 
tell  me?" 

He  felt  the  arm  in  his  clasp  grow  rigid,  but  Mrs.  Bal- 
fame  answered  without  a  trace  of  her  recent  agitation-: 
"  I  told  you  before  that  I  never  had  a  pistol.  It  would 
be  like  her  to  be  spying  about  among  my  things,  but  I 
wonder  she  would  admit  it." 

"  She  is  delighted  with  her  new  importance,  and,  I 
fancy,  has  been  bribed  to  tell  all  she  knows." 

"  In  that  case  she  wouldn't  mind  telling  more.  And 
no  doubt  she  will  think  of  other  sensational  items  be 
fore  the  trial.  She  will  have  awakened  in  the  night 
after  the  crime  and  heard  me  drop  the. pistol  between 
the  walls,  or  she  will  have  seen  me  loading  it  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  shooting." 

1  Yes,  there  is  no  knowing  when  those  low-grade  im 
aginations,  once  started,  will  stop.  Memory  ceases 
to  function  in  brains  of  that  sort,  and  its  place  is  taken 
by  a  confused  jumble  of  induced  or  auto  suggestions, 
which  are  carefully  straightened  out  by  the  practised 
lawyer  in  rehearsals.  But  I  almost  wish  that  you  had 
taken  a  pistol  out  that  night  and  would  tell  me  where 
to  find  it.  I'd  lose  it  somewhere  out  in  the  marsh." 

"  I  had  no  pistol."     Not  yet  could  she  take  him  into 


184  MRS.    BALFAME 

her  confidence  to  that  extent,  although  she  knew  that 
he  was  about  to  stake  his  professional  reputation  on 
her  acquittal. 

He  dismissed  the  subject  abruptly.  "  By  the  way,  I 
gave  the  story  of  Frieda's  attempt  to  blackmail  you  to 
Broderick  and  two  other  men  just  before  I  left  town  — 
laying  emphasis  on  the  fact  that  you  always  drank  a 
glass  of  filtered  water  before  going  to  bed.  They 
made  a  wry  face  over  that,  but  it  is  news  and  they  must 
publish  it.  There  are  many  things  in  your  favour  — 
particularly  Frieda's  assertion  before  the  coroner  that 
she  knew  nothing  of  the  case.  She  is  a  confessed  per 
jurer.  Also,  why  didn't  she  answer  when  you  called 
up  to  her,  if  she  was  on  the  back  stairs?  There  are 
things  that  satisfy  a  grand  jury  that  will  not  go  down 
with  a  trial  jury.  Now  you  must,  you  must  trust  me." 

She  looked  up  at  him  dully.  But  in  a  moment  her 
eyes  warmed  and  she  smiled  faintly.  All  the  female  in 
her  responded  to  the  traditional  strength  and  power  of 
the  male.  She  also  knew  the  sensitiveness  of  man's 
vanity  and  the  danger  either  of  starving  it  or  dealing 
it  a  sudden  blow.  She  sometimes  felt  sorry  for  men. 
It  was  their  self-appointed  task  to  run  the  planet,  and 
they  must  be  reminded  just  so  often  how  wonderful 
they  were,  lest  they  lose  courage;  one  of  the  several 
obliging  weaknesses  of  which  women  rarely  scrupled 
to  take  advantage. 

As  she  put  out  her  hand  and  took  his,  she  looked  very 
feminine  and  sweet.  Her  face  was  flushed  and  tears 
had  softened  her  large  blue-grey  eyes  that  could  look  so 
virginal  and  cold. 

"  I  know  you  will  get  me  off.  Don't  imagine  for  a 
moment  I  doubt  that;  it  is  a  sustaining  faith  that  will 


MRS.     BALFAME  185 

carry  me  through  the  trial  itself.  But  it  is  this  terrible 
ordeal  in  prison  that  I  dread  —  and  the  publicity  —  my 
good  name  dragged  in  the  dust." 

"  You  can  change  that  name  for  mine  the  day  you 
are  acquitted." 

It  suddenly  occurred  to  her  that  this  might  be  a  very 
sensible  thing  to  do,  and  simultaneously  she  appreciated 
the  fact  that  he  possessed  what  was  called  charm  and 
magnetism.  Moreover,  the  complete  devotion  of  even 
a  passably  attractive  member  of  the  over-sex  in  alarm 
ing  predicaments  was  a  very  precious  thing.  Possibly 
for  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  experienced  a  sensation 
of  gratitude,  and  she  smiled  at  him  so  radiantly  that 
he  caught  his  breath. 

"  No  one  but  you  could  have  consoled  me  for  the 
loss  of  Anna,  but  you  are  not  to  say  one  word  of  that 
sort  to  me  until  I  am  out  of  this  dreadful  place.  I 
couldn't  stand  the  contrast !  Will  you  promise  ?  " 

"  Very  well." 

"  Now  will  you  really  do  something  for  me  —  get 
me  a  sleeping  powder  from  the  druggist  ?  To-morrow 
I  shall  be  myself  again,  but  I  must  sleep  to-night." 

"  I'll  get  it."     His  voice  was  matter  of  fact,  for  love 

made  certain  of  his  instincts  keen  if  it  blunted  others. 

'That  is,  if  you  will  promise  to  go  to  bed  early  and 

see  none  of  these  reporters,  men  or  women.     They  are 

camped  all  over  the  Courthouse  yard." 

She  gave  an  exclamation  of  disgust.  "  I'll  never  see 
another  newspaper  person  as  long  as  I  live.  They  are 
responsible  for  this,  and  I  hate  them." 

"  Good !  You  shall  have  the  powder  in  ten  minutes. 
Oh,  by  the  way,  will  you  give  me  a  written  permit  to 
pass  the  night  in  your  house?  I  want  to  go  through 


186  MRS.     BALFAME 

your  husband's  papers  and  see  if  I  can  find  any  clue 
to  unknown  enemies.  He  may  have  received  threaten 
ing  letters.  I  can  obtain  the  official  permission  with 
out  any  difficulty." 

She  wrote  the  permit  unsuspiciously.  At  nine 
o'clock  that  night  he  let  himself  into  the  Balfame  house 
determined  to  find  the  pistol  before  morning.  He 
knew  the  police  would  get  round  to  the  inevitable 
search  some  time  on  the  following  day. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

ALYS  CRUMLEY  entertained  four  of  the  news 
paper  women  at  a  picnic  lunch  in  her  studio. 
She  was  grateful  for  the  distraction  from  her  own 
thoughts  and  diverted  by  their  theories.  None  had 
seen  Mrs.  Balfame  save  through  the  medium  of  the 
staff  artist,  and  they  were  inclined  to  accept  the  prima 
facie  evidence  of  her  guilt.  When  Alys  fetched  a 
photograph  from  the  house,  however,  they  immediately 
reversed  their  opinion,  for  the  pictured  face  was  that 
of  a  lovely  cold  and  well-bred  woman  without  a  trace 
of  hardness  or  predisposition  to  crime.  They  fell  in 
love  with  it  and  vowed  to  defend  her  to  the  best  of  their 
ability,  Miss  Crumley  promising  to  exert  her  influence 
with  the  accused  to  obtain  an  interview  for  the  new 
devotees. 

Before  wrapping  the  photograph  for  its  inevitable 
journey  to  New  York,  Alys  gave  it  a  moment  of  study 
herself,  wondering  if  she  may  not  have  misinterpreted 
what  she  saw  that  morning.  No  one  had  worshipped 
at  that  shrine  more  devoutly  than  she,  even  during  these 
later  years  of  metropolitan  concordance. 

"  What  is  your  theory?  "  asked  Miss  Austin  of  The 
Evening  Neivs.  "  They  say  that  a  lot  of  those  men 
at  the  Elks  know,  but  never  will  come  through.  Do 
you  think  it  was  any  of  those  girls?  It  might  have 
been  some  woman  he  knew  in  New  York  who  followed 

187 


i88  MRS.     BALFAME 

him  here  for  the  first  time  —  who  would  not  have  been 
recognised  if  seen,  and  got  away  in  a  waiting  automo 
bile." 

"  As  likely  as  not,"  said  Miss  Crumley  indifferently. 
"  I  have  heard  so  many  theories  advanced  and  rejected 
that  I  am  almost  as  confused  as  the  police.  Jim  Brod- 
erick  says  that  the  simplest  explanation  is  generally  the 
correct  one,  but  while  he  believes  Mrs.  Balfame  to  be 
the  natural  solution,  I  happen  to  know  her  better  than 
he  does,  and  a  good  deal  more  of  this  community. 
Three  or  four  men  and  one  or  two  women  would  be 
still  simpler  explanations.  Possibly — "  She  turned 
cold  and  almost  lost  her  breath,  but  the  impulse  to  put 
a  maddening  possibility  into  verbal  form  was  irresist 
ible.  "  Perhaps  some  man  that  is  in  love  with  Mrs. 
Balfame  did  it."  And  then  she  hated  herself,  for  she 
felt  as  if  she  had  thrown  Dwight  Rush  to  the  lions. 

"  But  who?  Who?"  the  girls  were  demanding, 
more  excited  over  this  picturesque  solution  than  they 
had  been  since  "  the  story  broke."  Even  Miss  Austin, 
who  disdained  to  write  "  sob  stuff  "  and  was  a  graduate 
of  the  Columbia  School  of  Journalism,  was  almost  on 
her  feet,  while  Miss  Lauretta  Lea,  who  wept  vicari 
ously  for  fifty  thousand  women  three  times  a  week, 
shrieked  without  shame. 

"Oh,  fine!"  "How  truly  enchanting!"  "Dear 
Miss  Crumley  —  Alys  —  who,  who  is  the  man  ?  " 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,  I've  not  an  idea.  Mrs.  Balfame 
always  has  rather  disdained  men,  and  even  if  she  were 
susceptible  is  far  too  straight-laced  to  permit  any  man 
to  pay  her  compromising  attentions,  or  to  meet  him  se 
cretly.  But  of  course  she  is  very  pretty,  still  young 
to  look  at,  so  there  is  the  possibility  — " 


MRS.     BALFAME  189 

"  But  just  run  over  all  the  marriageable  men  in  the 
community  — " 

"  Oh,  he  might  be  married,  you  know."  Alys  strug 
gled  to  keep  the  alarm  out  of  her  voice. 

"  But  in  that  case  there  would  still  be  the  wife  to 
dispose  of,  and  now,  at  least,  he'd  never  dare  kill  her,  or 
even  divorce  her.  No,  I  don't  hold  to  that  theory. 
It's  more  like  the  reckless  act  of  the  unchastened  bache 
lor  still  young  enough  for  illusions.  You  must  have  a 
theory,  Alys.  Stand  and  deliver."  Miss  Austin  spoke 
with  quick  insistence.  She  had  detected  her  hostess' 
suppressed  excitement  and  was  convinced  that  the  hint 
had  not  been  thrown  out  at  random.  She  also  had 
been  conscious  of  an  indefinable  change  in  her  old  as 
sociate,  and  now  she  noticed  it  in  detail.  She  might 
be  too  self-respecting  to  dip  her  pen  in  bathos,  but  she 
was  nevertheless  young,  and  her  imagination  began 
playing  about  possibilities  like  lightning  over  a  wire 
fence. 

The  heat  which  confused  Alys  Crumley's  brain  was 
expressed  by  a  dull  glow  in  her  strange  olive-colored 
eyes,  but  she  made  a  desperate  effort  to  look  impersonal 
and  rather  bored. 

"  No,  I  have  no  theory :  certainly  it  could  not  be  any 
of  the  men  hereabouts.  Mrs.  Balfame  has  known  all 
of  them  from  infancy  up.  Perhaps  she  met  some  one 
in  New  York ;  I  don't  know  that  she  ever  went  to  any 
of  the  tea- tango  places  —  she  doesn't  dance;  but  she 
might  have  gone  with  Mrs.  Gifning  or  Mrs.  Frew,  and 
just  met  some  one  that  fell  in  love  with  her  —  Oh,  you 
mustn't  take  a  mere  idea  of  mine  too  seriously." 

"Hm!"  said  Miss  Austin.  "It  doesn't  sound 
plausible.  A  man  she  met  now  and  then  at  a  tea-room ! 


MRS.     BALFAME 

She's  not  the  sort  to  drive  men  to  distraction  in  the 
casual  meeting  —  not  the  type.  And  I  can't  see  the 
men  that  frequent  afternoon  tea-rooms  working  them 
selves  up  to  the  point  of  murder.  No,  if  there  is  a 
man  in  the  case,  he  is  here;  if  not  in  Elsinore,  then  in 
the  county ;  and  it  is  some  man  who  has  known  her  long 
enough  and  seen  her  often  enough  to  descend  from 
mere  admiration  for  her  rather  chilling  type  of  beauty 
into  the  most  desperate  desire  for  possession  — " 

Alys  burst  into  a  ringing  peal  of  laughter.  "  Really, 
Sarah,  I  wonder  you  are  not  already  famous  as  a  fic 
tion-story  writer.  How  much  longer  do  you  propose 
to  stick  to  prosaic  journalism?  " 

"  I've  had  two  stories  accepted  by  leading  magazines 
this  month,  I'd  have  you  know;  but  your  memory  is 
short  if  you  think  journalism  prosaic.  It  germinates 
pretty  nearly  all  the  fiction  microbes  that  later  ravage 
the  popular  magazines.  That  was  what  was  the  matter 
with  the  old  magazines  —  no  modern  symptoms,  let 
alone  fevers  —  only  antidotes  that  somehow  didn't 
work.  But  if  you  won't  tell,  Alys,  I'll  find  out  for  my 
self.  If  I  don't  find  out,  Jim  Broderick  will,  and  I'd 
give  my  eyes  to  get  ahead  of  him.  But  we've  got  to 
catch  our  train,  girls." 

They  took  the  short  cut  through  the  hall  of  the  dwell 
ing,  and  as  they  passed  the  open  door  of  the  living- 
room,  Miss  Lauretta  Lea  exclaimed  with  pleasure  at 
its  conceit  of  a  cool  green  wood.  Alys  could  do  no  less 
than  invite  them  in.  While  the  three  other  reporters 
were  walking  about  observing  the  charming  room  in 
detail  and  envying  its  owner,  Miss  Sarah  Austin  walked 
directly  over  to  a  framed  photograph  of  Dwight  Rush 
that  stood  on  a  side-table.  He  had  given  it  to  Mrs. 


MRS.     BALFAME  191 

Crumley;  and  Alys,  who  spared  her  mother  all  un 
necessary  anxiety,  had  not  yet  conceived  a  logical  ex 
cuse  for  its  removal. 

"  Whom  have  we  here?"  demanded  the  searching 
young  realist.  "  Don't  tell  me,  Alys,  that  here  is  the 
secret  of  your  desertion  of  the  New  York  press.  I'd 
forgive  you,  though,  for  he  is  precisely  the  type  I  most 
admire.  The  modern  Samson  before  Delilah  cuts  off 
what  little  hair  his  barber  leaves.  But  the  same  old 
Samson  looking  round  for  the  same  old  Delilah  — " 

"  Really,  Sarah,  are  you  insinuating  that  I  am  a 
Delilah  ?  That  is  too  much ! "  Alys  put  her  arm 
round  Miss  Austin's  waist  and  smiled  teasingly.  "  No 
wonder  your  newspaper  stories  are  so  bitingly  realistic ; 
the  restraints  you  force  upon  your  imagination  must 
put  it  quite  out  of  commission  for  the  time  being. 
That  is  Mr.  Dwight  Rush,  quite  a  well  known  lawyer  in 
Brabant  already,  although  he  has  only  been  here  about 
two  years." 

"  I  thought  you  said  all  your  young  men  had  grown 
up  in  the  community." 

"  I  had  quite  forgotten  him." 

"Ha!     Is  he  married?" 

"  Oh,  no.  And  he  was  born  and  brought  up  over  in 
Rennselaerville,  by  the  way,  but  went  West  to  some 
college  or  university  and  practised  out  there  for  sev 
eral  years." 

"How  old  is  he?" 

"  Oh,  about  thirty-three  or  thirty- four." 

"  Must  have  been  away  a  good  many  years.  Would 
return  quite  fresh  —  must  have  had  a  lot  made  over 
him  here  —  looks  clever  and  built  for  success  —  that 
concentrated  driving  type  that  always  gets  there  — " 


192  MRS.    BALFAME 

"  He  goes  very  little  into  society  and  no  one  possibly 
could  lionise  him." 

"  Is  he  interesting  to  talk  to  or  just  another  spe 
cialist?" 

"  That's  about  it.  But  he  was  more  a  friend  of 
mother's  than  mine.  That  is  her  picture." 

"Oh!  He  likes  older  women,  then?  Looks  as  if 
he  might.  Never  would  take  the  trouble,  that  type,  to 
adapt  himself  to  girls,  try  to  understand  them.  Could 
it  be  —  Alys,  you  must  know  if  he  knows  Mrs.  Bal- 
fame!" 

Alys  was  cold  again  but  laid  violent  hands  on  her 
nerves.  "-No  better  than  he  knew  any  one  else,  if  as 
well,  for  Mrs.  Balfame  never  talked  to  the  younger 
men.  She  doesn't  attract  them,  anyhow.  Do  you 
realise,  dear,  that  you  are  asking  if  Mr.  Rush  com 
mitted  murder?  " 

"  With  that  jaw  and  those  nostrils,  he  could  —  oh, 
rather!  And  it  is  one  of  those  cast-iron,  passionate 
faces ;  when  those  men  do  let  go  — " 

"  Oh,  really !  "  Alys  dropped  her  arm,  and  her  subtle 
face  expressed  disdain.  "  Mr.  Rush  is  quite  too  steel 
clad  to  be  carried  away  even  if  he  were  capable  of 
committing  a  low  and  cowardly  murder.  He  happens 
to  be  a  gentleman  and  about  as  astute  and  poised  as  they 
are  made.  Do  please  send  your  romantic  imagination 
off  on  another  flight." 

"  Not  I.  I'm  going  to  account  for  every  moment  he 
spent  that  night." 

"  Would  you  like  to  see  Mr.  Rush  go  to  the  chair?  " 
asked  Miss  Crumley  sternly. 

"  Oh,  good  Lord  no."  Miss  Austin  turned  pale. 
"  I  don't  believe  in  capital  punishment,  anyhow.  No, 


MRS.     BALFAME  193 

I'll  not  tell  a  thing  if  I  find  him  out.  But  how  inter 
esting  to  know !  I'd  write  a  corking  story  —  fiction  — 
about  it.  Those  deep  glimpses  into  life  —  into  those 
terrible  abysses  of  the  human  heart  —  no  writer  can 
become  great  without  them." 

"  Well,  don't  waste  your  time  trying  to  find  the 
criminal  in  this  excellent  citizen.  You  might  set  some 
of  the  newspaper  men  on  his  trail  and  blacken  his  name 
while  you  discovered  nothing.  Better  get  on  the  track 
of  the  potential  woman  in  New  York." 

"  Not  half  so  interesting.  Just  one  of  those  apart 
ment-house  misalliances.  No,  I'm  out  for  Mr.  Rush, 
and  when  I  have  the  proof,  I'll  extract  a  confession ;  but 
I'll  dig  a  little  grave  in  my  brain  and  bury  his  secret  — 
then  when  it  has  ripened,  exhume  and  toss  it  into  that 
crucible  through  which  facts  pass  and  come  out  —  fic 
tion.  Get  me,  dear?" 

"  You  talk  like  a  literary  ghoul.  But  I  know  you 
don't  mean  a  word  of  it.  Good-bye,  girls.  Do  drop 
in  whenever  you  are  over  on  the  case."  She  kissed 
them  all,  and  Miss  Lauretta  Lea  exclaimed  innocently : 

"  You've  lost  that  lovely  dusky  colour  you  had  awhile 
ago,  dear.  You  look'  more  like  old  ivory  than  ever  — 
old  ivory  and  olive.  I  wonder  all  the  artists  don't  paint 
you.  I  suppose  every  young  man  in  Elsinore  is  in 
love  with  you.  Marry,  my  dear,  marry.  I've  been  in 
this  game  twelve  years.  Show  me  a  willing  would-be 
husband  and  I'd  take  him  so  quick  he'd  never  know 
what  struck  him.  Give  my  hopes  of  being  a  man  in 
the  next  incarnation  for  ten  babies  to  weep  over  when 
they  had  croup  or  got  lost  in  the  woods  of  New  York 
City.  Hate  sob  stuff.  Cut  it  out,  kid,  before  you  be 
gin  it." 


194  MRS.    BALFAME 

She  talked  all  the  way  to  the  gate  and  for  several 
yards  down  the  avenue,  waving  a  final  farewell  with  a 
somewhat  tragic  smile. 

"  Why  doesn't  that  girl  marry  ?  "  she  asked  as  they 
walked  rapidly  to  the  station.  "  Still  fresh,  if  she  is 
twenty-six.  I'm  only  thirty- four  and  I  look  like  a  hag 
beside  her." 

"  Maybe  she  can't  get  the  man  she  wants,"  replied 
the  potential  novelist,  who  was  thinking  deeply. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

ALYS  borrowed  a  horse  and  cart  from  her  cousin 
Mr.  Phipps,  Chief  of  Police  in  Elsinore,  who 
kept  a  livery  stable,  and  took  the  shortest  cut  into  the 
country.  She  wanted  to  think  out  many  things  and 
think  them  out  alone.  She  drove  rapidly  until  she 
came  within  sight  and  sound  of  the  sea.  Then  she  let 
the  lines  lie  loosely  on  the  back  of  her  old  friend  Colo 
nel  Roosevelt,  who  had  been  named  in  his  fiery  colt- 
hood,  but  in  these  days,  save  under  compulsion,  was  as 
slow  as  American  law.  He  ambled  along,  and  Alys,  in 
the  booming  stillness  and  the  fresh  salt  air,  felt  the 
humid  waves  roll  out  of  her  brain.  She  saw  clearly, 
but  she  was  aghast  and  depressed. 

Presented  by  nature  with  an  odd  and  arresting  ex 
terior,  in  color  and  feature  as  well  as  in  subtlety  of 
expression,  sketched  and  flattered  by  such  artists  as 
she  met,  she  had,  ever  since  old  enough  for  introspec 
tion,  striven  for  uncommon  personal  developments  that 
should  justify  her  obverse  and  set  her  still  farther  apart 
from  mere  woman.  If  not  born  with  an  intense  aver 
sion  from  the  commonplace  (and  it  is  safe  to  say  that 
no  one  is),  she  had  conceived  it  early  enough  to  train 
a  rarely  plastic  mind  to  striking  viewpoints,  while  a 
natural  tact  saved  her  from  isolation.  If  she  had  been 
as  original  as  she  thought  herself,  she  would  have  an 
tagonised  many  people. 

Assuredly  a  certain  nobility  of  nature  and  a  revul- 

i95 


196  MRS.     BALFAME 

sion  from  all  that  was  base  were  innate ;  although,  soon 
learning  of  the  many  pitfalls  yawning  for  humanity, 
she  had  assiduously  cultivated  these  her  higher  inclina 
tions,  an  enterprise  measurably  assisted  by  the  equable 
temper,  the  feminine  charm,  the  bright  intelligence  and 
the  quick  sympathies  that  made  her  many  friends. 
Moreover,  her  freedom  from  the  usual  yearnings  of  her 
sex  in  the  matter  of  riches  and  subservience  to  the 
race,  which  wreck  the  lives  of  so  many  women,  and  her 
love  of  the  arts  and  delight  in  her  own  little  talent,  all 
served  to  deponderate  the  burden  of  life. 

She  had  liked  many  men  as  friends,  and  was  proud 
of  the  fact  that  only  the  more  intelligent  were  attracted 
to  her,  but  she  had  arrived  at  the  age  of  twenty-six 
without  even  imagining  herself  seriously  in  love,  so  in 
tense  was  her  idealism.  This  was  another  of  her  de 
liberate  cultivations,  for  here  also  was  she  resolute 
that  as  nature  had  done  so  much  for  her,  marking  her 
as  a  girl  apart,  so  should  she  insist  upon  having  an  un 
common  mate.  It  was  to  this  end  even  more  than  for 
the  barren  satisfaction  of  pleasing  Mother  Nature  that 
she  had  tilled  the  garden  of  her  mind  with  both  science 
and  imagination.  When  she  loved,  it  should  be  like  a 
woman,  of  course ;  she  had  no  delusions  about  making 
over  human  nature  to  suit  passing  fashions  in  woman ; 
but  while  she  never  ignored  the  vital  passions  that 
formed  the  basis  of  her  unique  personality  and  strong 
will,  she  was  determined  that  they  should  be  quickened 
only  by  a  man  who  would  make  equal  demands  upon 
all  that  was  fine  in  her  character  and  aspiring  in  her 
mind. 

The  awful  collapse  of  this  cherished  structure,  her 
spiritual  house,  under  her  hopeless  and  violent  passion 


MRS.     BALFAME  197 

for  D wight  Rush  had  almost  demoralised  her.  After 
she  had  won  herself  to  reason  once  more,  she  still  had 
sat,  stunned,  among  the  ruins.  It  was  true  that  Rush 
was  all  that  she  had  demanded  of  man  and  that  he 
emanated  a  promise  of  happiness  along  strictly  mod 
ern  lines  —  which  was  all  she  asked,  being  no  romantic 
fool;  but  not  only  had  she  loved  him  unasked,  sacri 
ficing  the  first  and  perhaps  the  dearest  of  her  dreams, 
to  be  wooed  and  awakened  and  surprised,  but,  accept 
ing  the  inevitable  (the  man  being  overburdened,  like 
most  busy  young  Americans,  and  unself conscious), 
she  deliberately  had  set  herself  to  awaken  him  —  and 
for  nought.  For  worse  than  nought :  he  had  instantly 
taken  fright  and  withdrawn. 

Of  the  terrific  upheaval  of  that  time,  like  some 
graveyard  of  the  sea  flung  putrid  and  phosphorescent 
to  the  surface  by  submarine  vulcanism,  she  had  ceased 
to  think  as  soon  as  her  will  was  reinstated  in  command. 
Immediately  she  had  striven  to  rebuild  her  house  lest 
she  be  swamped  in  mere  femaleness,  so  permanently 
demoralised  that  life  would  be  quite  unendurable.  She 
had  cultivated  the  heights  too  long.  She  might  tum 
ble  off  occasionally,  but  in  no  other  atmosphere  could 
she  breathe  deeply  and  realise  herself,  find  any  measure 
of  content.  It  had  occurred  to  her  that  if  she  had 
been  born  in  the  gutter  and  grown  to  adolescence  with 
no  ennobling  influence,  she  would  have  developed  into 
a  notable  force  for  evil.  At  all  events,  she  liked  to 
think  so ;  many  women  of  stainless  lives  do. 

She  guessed  this,  having  a  saving  sense  of  humour, 
but  did  not  expand  upon  it,  not  being  inclined  to  hu 
mour  at -the  moment.  Accompanying  her  resolution  to 
be  finer  and  better  than  ever,  to  fortify  herself  against 


198  MRS.     BALFAME 

life  with  some  degree  of  satisfaction  in  herself,  was 
the  hope  of  complete  deliverance  from  what  she  called 
the  Dwight  Rush  Idea.  In  due  course  she  had  con 
quered  the  obsession,  for  pride  and  self -disgust  served 
her  like  first-aid  surgeons  on  the  battlefield;  and  al 
though  she  felt  amputated  and  scarred,  she  had  lost 
her  sense  of  humiliation.  But  her  heart  still  ac 
celerated  its  beats  when  she  met  Rush,  and  no  will  is 
strong  enough  to  prevent  the  recurrence  of  the  mental 
image;  only  time  can  dim  it.  But  it  was  not  until 
Broderick  had  left  her  alone  in  her  studio  with  the 
poisons  of  fear  and  jealousy  implanted  that  she  had 
admitted  she  still  loved  him,  probably  must  continue  to 
love  him  for  years  to  come. 

In  that  hour  she  had  hated  Mrs.  Balfame,  although 
she  neither  believed  her  guilty  nor  was  tempted  to  the 
dastardly  course  of  helping  to  force  the  appearance  of 
guilt  upon  her.  And  for  a  time  that  night  she  had 
hoped  she  hated  Dwight  Rush  also,  so  utterly  disgusted 
and  indignant  was  she  that  he  could  prefer  a  faded 
woman  of  forty-odd  to  a  unique  and  beautiful  girl  like 
herself. 

But  once  more  Miss  Crumley's  sense  of  proportion 
enforced  itself,  and  she  reflected  sternly  that  men  had 
fallen  in  love  with  women  older  tHan  themselves  since 
the  world  began,  and  that  some  of  those  transcendent 
—  and  lasting  —  passions  had  made  history.  She  was 
no  green  village  girl  to  be  astounded  at  the  least  com 
mon  phase  of  the  sexual  adventure.  It  was  then  she 
had  given  way  to  tears,  for  although  she  might  be  in 
telligent  enough  to  admit  this  most  unpardonable  of 
nature's  informalities,  she  could  regret  it  with  bitter 
ness  and  despair. 


MRS.     BALFAME  199 

Later  had  come  her  fear  for  Rush's  safety.  Not 
for  a  moment  did  she  suspect  him  of  the  crime,  but  if 
accused  of  it  during  the  process  of  elimination,  there 
was  the  appalling  doubt  that  he  could  prove  an  alibi. 
As  likely  as  not  he  had  missed  his  man  in  Brooklyn  — 
she  knew  that  he  had  expected  to  dine  and  spend  the 
evening  at  the  Country  Club  —  or  had  not  gone  there ; 
knowing  Bal  fame's  ugly  temper  when  drunk,  what 
more  natural  than  that  he  should  hide  in  the  grounds 
to  be  near  at  hand  in  case  the  man  were  disposed  to 
wreak  vengeance  on  his  wife  for  his  own  humiliation. 
It  was  Alys's  theory  that  the  murder  was  political. 

Until  to-day!  From  the  moment  that  she  saw 
Mrs.  Bal  fame  empty  and  rinse  the  vial,  she  was  con 
vinced  that  Broderick  was  right  in  his  deductions  and 
that  for  some  reason  the  terrible  woman  had  changed 
her  mind  and  used  the  revolver.  It  was  a  stupider  act 
than  she  would  have  expected  of  Mrs.  Bal  fame,  for 
Dave  was  a  man  whose  sudden  death  would  excite  little 
suspicion,  nor  would  Mrs.  Bal  fame  be  the  woman  to 
use  a  common  poison.  Her  intimacy  with  Dr.  Anna 
would  put  her  on  the  track  of  one  of  those  organic  po 
tions  that  were  too  subtle  for  chemical  analysis.  She 
had  heard  doctors  talk  of  them  herself. 

Then  abruptly  she  recalled  the  sinister  change  in 
Mrs.  Bal  fame's  smiling  countenance  on  that  day  she 
sketched  her  at  the  Friday  Club ;  her  mind  opened  and 
closed  on  the  conviction  that  in  that  moment  Mrs.  Bal- 
fame  had  conceived  the  purpose  of  murder. 

But  why  the  change  of  method?  She  dismissed  the 
riddle.  It  was  not  for  her  to  unravel.  Nor  did  she 
care.  The  fact  was  enough.  This  good  friend  of  her 
family  was  an  abominable  creature  from  whom  in  even 


200  MRS.    BALFAME 

mental  contact  she  shuddered  away  with  a  spasm  of 
spiritual  nausea. 

But  that  was  not  her  own  problem.  No  doubt  Mrs. 
Balfame  would  be  acquitted;  Alys  hoped  so,  at  all 
events,  for  she  wanted  no  such  a  stain  on  Elsinore, 
where,  she  thanked  God,  she  lived,  although  she  sought 
knowledge  and  income  in  the  City  of  New  York.  For 
the  same  reason,  she  had  no  desire  that  the  guilty 
woman  should  pay  her  debt  by  even  a  brief  term  in 
Auburn ;  but  all  that  was  beside  the  point.  What  Alys 
felt  she  would  give  her  soul  to  ravish  from  this  thrice 
accursed  woman,  so  formidable  in  her  peril,  were  the 
services  of  Dwight  Rush.  If  he  were  Mrs.  Bal fame's 
chief  counsel  he  would  see  her  constantly,  and  alone  — 
for  hours  on  end,  perhaps,  for  he  must  consult  with 
her,  rehearse  her,  instruct  her,  keep  up  her  spirits, 
console  her.  This  might  not  be  the  whole  duty  of 
counsel,  but  in  the  circumstances  no  doubt  she  had 
underestimated,  if  anything.  And  even  if  he  believed 
her  guilty,  he  might  in  that  intimacy  love  her  the  more ; 
not  only  would  he  pity  her  profoundly  and  see  himself 
her  natural  protector,  but  he  would  be  heart  and  soul 
in  the  great  case,  and  it  would  not  be  long  before  the 
case  and  the  woman  were  one. 

If,  however,  Rush  could  be  made  to  believe  now 
that  the  woman  was  a  murderess,  would  he  not  de 
cline  to  take  the  case  ?  He  was  hardly  the  man  to  de 
fend  man  or  woman  whom  from  the  outset  he  knew  to 
be  guilty,  although  when  immersed  in  the  case  he 
would  keep  on,  whatever  the  revelations.  Alys  be 
lieved  that  it  was  possible  for  her  to  convince  him. 
She  could  inform  him  of  the  needle-witted  Mr.  Brod- 
erick's  suspicions  and  of  her  own  confirmations;  and 


MRS.     BALFAME  201 

she  could  tell  him  of  her  certain  knowledge  that  Mrs. 
Balfame  had  a  revolver;  she  had  seen  it  eight  months 
ago,  when  Balfame  brought  it  home  from  New  York 
and  told  his  wife  to  discharge  it  in  the  air  if,  when 
alone,  she  heard  a  man  breaking  in. 

It  had  signified  little  to  her  at  the  moment  that  Mrs. 
Balfame  had  denied  to  police  and  reporters  that  she 
possessed  a  revolver,  for  it  might  by  chance  be  a  .41, 
and  it  was  not  to  be  expected  that  even  an  innocent 
woman  would  challenge  public  doubt  and  possible  ar 
rest.  But  her  denial  and  probable  concealment  of  the 
weapon  were  significant  to  Alys  now.  She  remem 
bered  that  Dr.  Anna  had  spent  the  early  hours  of 
Sunday  alone  with  Mrs.  Balfame.  No  doubt  the 
wicked  woman  had  found  both  relief  and  counsel  in 
confessing  to  a  friend  like  Anna  Steuer,  a  creature  so 
strong  and  staunch  that  the  secret  would  be  as  safe  as 
in  her  own  guilty  soul.  Anna,  of  course,  had  taken 
the  pistol  and  dropped  it  in  the  marsh  when  she  visited 
Farmer  Houston's  wife  later  in  the  day.  If  she  could 
but  get  Dr.  Anna  to  speak. 

Alys  raised  her  eyes  under  their  bent  and  frowning 
brows  and  looked  up  to  where  the  Brabant  Hospital 
stood  on  rising  ground  beside  the  sea.  She  gave  a 
gasp  as  she  found  herself  turning  the  horse's  head  in 
that  direction.  What  did  she  intend  to  do  ?  Denounce 
Mrs.  Balfame  to  Dwight  Rush?  She  fancied  she 
heard  an  inner  crash.  Could  she  do  this  and  escape 
final  demoralisation?  Heretofore  she  had  at  least 
committed  no  act  involving  moral  degradation ;  her  up 
heavals  had  affected  herself  alone  and  were  her  in 
violate  secret;  but  if  she  made  a  last  desperate  throw 
to  win  Dwight  Rush  by  first  filling  him  with  loathing 


202  MRS.     BALFAME 

of  her  rival,  she  would  be  committed  to  a  course  of 
conduct  from  which  there  would  be  no  escape  for 
months,  perhaps  years  to  come.  For  if  she  won  him, 
—  toward  which  end  she  must  plan  with  every  female 
art  she  knew, —  she  never  could  ease  her  soul  with 
confession.  Her  only  chance  of  keeping  a  man  like 
that,  after  the  first  effulgence  had  merged  into  the 
healthy  temperateness  of  practical  married  life,  was 
to  avoid  the  major  disillusions. 

And  if  she  by  her  own  deliberate  act  went  to  pieces 
morally,  could  she  play  up?  Should  she  even  want  to 
play  up?  Could  one  deliberately  knock  the  founda 
tions  from  under  one's  cherished  spiritual  structure, 
reared  with  infinite  pains  upon  natural  inclinations,  and 
continue  to  be  even  a  pale  reflection  of  one's  higher 
self?  She  might,  after  the  first  excitement  of  striving 
to  achieve  her  immediate  object  was  over,  hate  herself 
too  deeply  to  love  or  even  to  live. 

She  drew  her  brows  more  closely  and  expelled  her 
breath  through  her  teeth.  For  the  moment,  at  least, 
she  felt  all  female,  ready  to  defy  the  future  and  her 
own  soul  to  obtain  possession  of  her  mate.  That  he 
was  her  mate  she  obstinately  believed,  temporarily  de 
flected  from  his  natural  progress  toward  herself  by  one 
of  those  powerful  delusions  that  afflict  every  man  in 
the  course  of  his  life.  And  if  she  did  not  open  his 
eyes  at  once,  the  temporary  deflection  would  merge 
into  the  straight  course  toward  marriage  with  a  she- 
demon.  .  .  . 

She  drove  into  the  hospital  yard,  threw  the  reins 
over  Colonel  Roosevelt's  back  and  asked  for  the  su 
perintendent,  Mrs.  Dissosway,  who  happened  to  be  her 
aunt 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

AN  hour  later,  Alys  was-  driving  through  Elsinore, 
her  mind  a  trifle  less  personal,  as  it  dwelt  upon 
her  brief  interview  with  the  superintendent  of  the  hos 
pital.  Mrs.  Dissosway,  who  was  devoted  to  her  niece 
and  believed  her  to  be  as  exceptional  as  Miss  Crumley 
in  her  most  aspiring  moments  could  have  wished,  had 
confided  that  she  was  sure  poor  dear  Anna  knew  some 
thing  about  that  awful  crime,  for  in  her  delirious  mo 
ments  she  kept  uttering  Enid  Bal fame's  name  in  very 
odd  tones  indeed.  She  had  assured  and  reassured  the 
patient  that  there  was  no  clue  to  the  murderer;  and  if 
she  kept  on  and  asked  to  see  Mrs.  Balfame, —  which, 
significantly,  she  had  not  done, —  they  of  course  would 
tell  her  that  the  friend  who  should  have  hastened  to 
her  bedside  had  suffered  a  nervous  breakdown  or 
sprained  her  ankle.  It  was  a  blessing  that  she  was  in 
no  condition  to  testify  against  her  idol,  for  it  would 
kill  her,  just  as  it  might  be  fatal  now  if  she  knew  that 
Enid  was  in  the  County  Jail. 

After  some  delicate  insistence,  Mrs.  Dissosway  had 
admitted  that  Dr.  Anna  must  convince  any  one  who 
listened  attentively  to  her  mutterings  that  her  belief  in 
her  friend's  guilt  was  positive,  whether  she  had  exact 
knowledge  or  not. 

"'Oh,  Enid!  Oh,  Enid!'  she  kept  repeating  in 
such  a  tone  of  anguish  and  reproach,  and  then  mut 
tered:  'Poor  child!  What  a  life!'  She  also  once 

203 


204  MRS.     BALFAME 

said  something  about  a  pistol  in  a  tone  of  dismay,  but 
the  other  words  I  couldn't  make  out. 

"  The  nurses  on  her  case,"  Mrs.  Dissosway  had  con 
cluded,  "  will  pay  no  attention.  They  are  too  accus 
tomed  to  fever  patients  to  listen  to  ravings,  and  the 
two  she  will  have  are  from  other  parts  of  the  State, 
anyhow.  They  never  heard  of  Mrs.  Balfame  before. 
But  I  have  been  in  and  out  all  day,  and  I  know  she  is 
worrying  in  her  poor  hot  mind  both  over  her  friend's 
crime  and  her  danger — " 

"Then  you  believe  Mrs.  Balfame  did  it?"  Miss 
Crumley  had  interrupted. 

'  Yes,  I  do  —  now,  anyhow ;  and  I  never  was  daffy 
about  her.  She  barely  remembers  I  am  alive,  living 
out  here  for  the  last  fifteen  years  as  I  have  done,  and  I 
am  your  mother's  sister.  I  don't  call  her  a  snob;  it's 
just  that  she  don't  seem  to  take  any  interest  in  people 
that  ain't  in  her  own  set.  But  the  Lord  knows  I'd 
never  tell  on  her  if  I  had  the  proof  in  my  hand,  for  I 
don't  want  any  of  our  grand  old  families  disgraced, 
and  she's  been  good  to  your  mother.  No,  she  can  go 
free,  and  welcome,  but  I  wish  poor  Anna  could  have 
been  spared  the  knowledge  of  her  crime,  for  it's  going 
to  be  all  the  harder  to  nurse  her  well,  and  she  has  a  bad 
case.  If  she  has  to  go,  she  shall  go  in  peace.  I'll  see 
to  that.  But  when  Enid  Balfame  is  out,  I'll  take  good 
care  to  let  her  know  that  she  has  another  crime  to  carry 
on  her  conscience  —  if  she's  got  one." 

Alys  had  not  asked  to  see  the  patient,  knowing  that 
it  would  be  useless,  but  Mrs.  Dissosway  had  walked  out 
to  the  cart  with  her,  and  pointing  to  a  window  on  the 
first  floor  of  the  wing  devoted  to  paying  patients,  re 
marked  :  "  That's  where  she  is,  poor  dear."  Alys 


MRS.    BALFAME  205 

had  wondered  if  she  should  fall  low  enough  before  this 
accursed  case  were  finished  to  describe  the  position  of 
that  room  to  Broderick  and  insinuate  what  he  might 
find  there  if  he  chose  to  hide  in  the  little  balcony  and 
enter  the  room  when  the  night  nurse  had  gone  out  for 
the  midnight  supper.  He  was  quite  capable  of  it. 

But  not  if  she  could  win  Rush  from  the  case,  nor 
unless,  Mrs.  Balfame  discharged,  he  were  arrested  and 
committed  for  the  crime.  She  wished  now  that  he  had 
been  arrested  instead  of  Mrs.  Balfame,  for  then  she 
could  have  saved  him  from  both  punishment  and  the 
other  woman  without  this  awful  sense  of  sliding  slowly 
down-hill  to  choke  in  a  poisonous  slime.  She  might 
have  been  obliged  to  exercise  a  certain  amount  of 
sophistry  even  then,  but  she  could  have  stood  it. 

She  was  driving  slowly  down  Atlantic  Avenue  when 
she  heard  her  name  called  in  accents  of  mystery  and 
excitement.  Her  modest  rig  was  passing  the  imposing 
mansion  of  Elislia  Battle,  bank  president,  and  like  all 
the  newer  homes  of  Elsinore  the  grounds  were  uncon- 
fined  and  the*  shallow  lawn  ended  at  the  pavement. 
From  one  of  the  drawing-room  windows  Lottie  Gif- 
ning  slanted,  and  as  she  met  Miss  Crumley's  eye,  she 
beckoned  peremptorily.  The  desire  for  solitude  was 
still  strong  upon  Alys,  but  as  she  had  no  excuse  to  ad 
vance,  she  wound  the  lines  round  the  whip  and  went 
slowly  up  the  brick  walk. 

Mrs.  Gifning  opened  the  front  door  and  swept  her 
into  the  drawing-room,  where  six  or  seven  other  women 
with  tense  excited  faces  sat  on  the  expensive  furniture. 
Mrs.  Battle,  herself  upholstered  in  shining  black-and- 
white  satin,  and  further  clad  in  invisible  armour,  occu 
pied  a  stately  and  upright  chair.  This  throne  had  been 


206  MRS.     BALFAME 

made  to  order;  consequently  her  small  feet  in  their 
high-heeled  pumps  touched  the  floor.  The  large  room, 
upon  which  much  money  had  been  spent,  was  not  taste 
less;  it  merely  had  no  individuality  whatever.  Like 
many  another  in  Elsinore,  it  set  Miss  Crumley's  teeth 
on  edge,  but  compensated  her  to-day  as  ever  by  inspir 
ing  her  with  a  sense  of  remote  superiority. 

"  Dear  Alys  —  so  glad  to  see  you !  "  Mrs.  Battle 
did  not  rise.  She  was  fond  of  Alys,  but  thought  her 
of  no  consequence  whatever.  "  Lottie  saw  you  and 
called  you  in  as  you  have  always  been  such  a  friend  of 
poor  dear  Enid's,  and  you  know  those  horrid  reporters, 
and  we  want  to  impress  upon  you  the  necessity  of  put 
ting  them  off  the  track.  We  are  talking  the  whole 
dreadful  business  over  and  trying  to  decide  what  to 
do." 

"  Do?"  Alys,  more  interested,  disposed  her  limber 
uncorseted  young  figure  into  a  low  chair  and  for  a  mo 
ment  diverted  envious  attention  from  the  momentous 
subject  in  hand.  "What  can  we  do?  Has  bail  been 
accepted?" 

"  No,  nor  likely  to  be.     Isn't  it  too  awful  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it's  awful."  Alys  stared  at  the  floor,  but  al 
though  her  words  might  have  been  uttered  by  any  of 
the  ladies  present,  her  tone  was  almost  conventional. 
No  one  noticed  this  defection,  however,  and  Mrs.  Bat 
tle  —  after  Mrs.  Gifning  had  tiptoed  to  all  the  doors, 
opened  them  suddenly  and  closed  them  again, —  pro 
ceeded  in  so  low  a  tone  that  there  was  an  immediate 
hitching  of  chairs  over  the  Persian  rug: 

"  What  we  were  debating  when  you  came  in,  Alys, 
was  whether  —  oh,  it's  too  awful !  —  she  did  it  or  not. 
Did  she  or  didn't  she?  She  has  a  perfectly  beautiful 


MRS.     BALFAME  207 

character  —  but  the  provocation!  Few  women  have 
been  tried  more  severely.  And  we  all  know  wha»t  hu 
man  nature  is  under  the  influence  of  sudden  tremendous 
passion."  Mrs.  Battle,  who  never  had  been  ruffled  by 
any  sort  of  passion,  leaned  against  the  high  back  of  her 
chair,  and  elevated  her  eyebrows  and  one  corner  of  her 
mouth. 

"  Could  such  a  crime  have  been  unpremeditated  ?  " 
asked  Alys.  "  You  forget  that  whoever  did  it  was 
waiting  in  the  grove  for  Balfame  to  come  home  from 
Sam's,  and  evidently  timed  to  shoot  as  he  reached  the 
gate." 

"  Passion,  my  dear  child,"  said  Mrs.  Bascom,  wife 
of  the  Justice  for  Brabant,  speaking  softly  and  with 
some  diffidence,  for  she  disliked  the  word,  "  can  endure 
for  quite  a  while  once  the  blood  is  up  and  pounding  in 
the  head.  It  would  take  a  good  deal  to  work  up  dear 
Enid,  but  when  a  woman  like  that  does  rise  to  the  pitch 
under  many  and  abominable  provocations,  well,  I  guess 
she  could  stay  at  that  pitch  a  good  bit  longer  than  all  of 
us  put  together.  I've  thought  of  nothing  else  for  three 
days  and  nights, —  the  Judge  won't  discuss  it  with  me, 
—  and  I  feel  convinced  that  she  did  it." 

"  So  have,  and  so  am  I,"  contributed  Mrs.  Battle, 
sepulchrally. 

"I'm  afraid  she  did!"  Mrs.  Gifning  heaved  an 
abysmal  sigh.  "  I  suspected  it  when  I  consulted  her 
about  her  mourning.  She  was  much  too  cool.  A 
woman  who  could  think  of  two  kinds  of  blouses  she 
wanted  the  very  morning  after  the  tragedy,  and  he  not 
out  of  the  house,  must  have  been  exercising  a  suspicious 
restraint  or  else  have  reverted  to  the  cold-bloodedness 
with  which  she  planned  the  deed." 


208  MRS.     BALFAME 

"  Dear  Lottie,  you  are  so  psychological,"  murmured 
Mrs.  Frew  admiringly;  but  Mrs.  Battle  interrupted 
sharply : 

"  I  maintain  that  she  did  it  in  a  moment  of  over 
whelming  passion.  She  would  be  inexcusable  if  she 
had  done  it  in  cold  blood." 

"Well,  of  course  I  didn't  mean  that!"  said  Mrs. 
Gifning  with  asperity.  "  I  guess  I'm  as  fond  of  Enid 
Balfame  as  anybody  in  this  room,  and  I  guess  I  know 
what  she  must  have  gone  through.  What  I  really 
meant  was  that  she  has  more  courage  than  most 
folks." 

"  Oh,  that  indeed ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Lequer,  who 
was  quite  happy  with  her  husband,  the -fashionable  doc 
tor  of  Brabant.  "  Matrimony  is  a  terrible  trial  at  best, 
and  it's  a  wonder  more  women  don't  —  well,  it's  too 
horrible  to  say.  But  I'm  afraid  —  well,  you  know." 

There  was  no  dissenting  voice.  Alys  raised  her  eyes 
and  glanced  about  the  room.  Mrs.  Cummack  was  not 
present.  No  doubt  she  had  been  carefully  omitted 
from  the  conference.  So  had  four  members  of  the 
inner  twelve  who  were  comparative  newcomers  in  El- 
sinore.  All  of  these  women  had  known  Enid  Balfame 
from  childhood,  consistently  admired  her;  when  she 
was  in  a  position  to  make  her  social  ambitions  felt,  had 
quite  naturally  fallen  into  line. 

"  Isn't  it  rather  a  hasty  conclusion  ?  "  Alys  asked. 
"  There  are  a  good  many  others  who  might  have  done 
it,  you  know." 

"  Everybody  suspected  has  one  grand  alibi."  Mrs. 
Gifning's  sigh  was  rather  hypocritical  this  time. 
"  We'd  be  only  too  glad  to  think  there  was  any  one 
else  likely  to  be  arrested.  No  hope !  No  hooe !  " 


MRS.     BALFAME  209 

"  I  suppose  " —  Miss  Crumley's  tones  were  tentative, 
although  the  irresistible  words  almost  cost  her  her 
breath  — "  that  there  was  no  man  in  love  with  Mrs. 
Balfame?" 

"  Alys  Crumley !  "  All  the  women  had  shrieked  the 
name,  and  Mrs.  Battle  swung  herself  to  her  pointed 
toes.  "  I'm  most  mad  enough  to  put  you  right  out. 
The  idea  of  insinuating — " 

"  Dear  me,  Mrs.  Battle,  it  never  occurred  to  me  that 
it  was  worse  for  a  married  woman  to  have  a  man  in 
love  with  her  than  to  commit  murder.  I  did  not  in 
sinuate  or  even  imagine  she  cared  for  any  man,  or  even 
encouraged  one.  But  such  things  have  happened." 

"  Not  to  her.  And  while  I  could  forgive  her  for 
shooting  a  perfectly  loathsome  husband  under  the  in 
fluence  of  sudden  passion,  I'd  never  forgive  her  —  Enid 
Balfame!  —  if  she  had  stooped  to  anything  so  paltry 
and  common  and  sinful  as  philandering ;  for  believe  me, 
a  man  doesn't  commit  murder  for  a  woman's  sake  un 
less  he  is  reasonably  certain  that  he  will  have  his  due 
rewards.  That  is  life.  And  how  can  he  be  certain, 
if  there  has  been  no  philandering.  No!"  Mrs. 
Battle  was  once  more  magisterial  in  her  chair,  and  in 
command  of  her  best  Friday  Club  vocabulary.  "  But 
there  is  this  much  to  be  said :  Enid  did  not  necessarily 
shoot  to  kill, —  merely  to  wound  perhaps, —  for  noth 
ing  would  have  punished  Dave  Balfame  more  than  a 
month  or  two  in  bed  on  gruel  and  custard.  Or  maybe 
she  just  didn't  know  what  she  was  doing  —  just  fired  to 
relieve  her  feelings.  I  am  sure  it  would  have  relieved 
mine  after  that  scene  at  the  Club." 

"  Oh  —  I  apologise.  Let  us  assume  then  that  Mrs. 
Balfame  did  it.  How  do  you  propose  to  act  in  the 


210  MRS.     BALFAME 

matter?  Of  course  you  will  not  accuse  her,  but  shall 
you  cut  her?  " 

"  Neither  the  one  nor  the  other !  "  Mrs.  Battle 
brought  her  plump  little  hands  down  on  the  arms  of  the 
chair  with  a  muffled  but  emphatic  smack.  "  Never  out 
side  of  this  room  shall  we  breathe  our  convictions,  or 
our  certain  knowledge  that  she  kept  a  revolver  in  her 
room  —  may  I  not  speak  for  all  ?  "  There  was  a  hiss 
ing  murmur  caused  by  the  letter  s.  "  And  it  will  be 
no  negative  defence,  either.  We'll  stand  by  her  pub 
licly,  visit  her  constantly,  keep  up  her  spirits,  never  give 
her  a  hint  of  our  suspicions,  and  attend  the  trial  in  a 
body.  Our  attitude  cannot  fail  to  impress  the  world. 
We  are  the  representative  women  of  Elsinore ;  we  have 
known  her  all  our  lives;  it  is  our  duty  to  flaunt  our 
faith  in  the  eyes  of  the  public.  The  moral  effect  will 
be  enormous  —  also  on  the  jury." 

"  It  is  very  splendid  of  you/'  Alys  sighed.  Their 
motives  were  mixed,  of  course,  poor  dears ;  brains  were 
not  their  strong  point,  and  they  were  all  feeling  young 
again  with  their  sense  of  participation  in  the  great  local 
drama,  but  there  was  no  questioning  their  loyalty,  even 
that  of  Mrs.  Battle,  who  would  inherit  the  reins  of 
leadership  were  Mrs.  Balfame  forced  to  retire.  Alys 
wished  she  could  be  swept  along  with  them,  but  her  in 
dorsement  of  their  programme  was  from  the  head 
alone. 

"  What  do  the  men  think?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  guess  they  don't  know  what  to  think/'  said  Mrs. 
Battle  complacently.  "  They're  not  as  clever  as  we  are, 
and  besides,  they  never  could  understand  that  type  of 
woman.  Whatever  they  think,  though, —  that  is  to 


MRS.     BALFAME  211 

say,  if  they  do  suspect  her, —  they'll  never  let  on.  They 
weren't  any  too  fond  of  Dave  these  last  years,  and 
they're  no  more  anxious  than  we  are  to  have  Elsinore 
disgraced  —  especially  with  all  those  lots  on  the  edge 
of  the  West  End  unsold.  They're  hoping  for  a  boom 
every  minute.  The  trial  will  be  bad  enough.  And 
those  terrible  reporters!  They've  been  here  a  dozen 
times." 

"  That  reminds  me,"  interrupted  Alys.  "  I  prom 
ised  four  of  the  best  of  the  women  reporters  I  would 
try  to  get  them  an  interview  with  Mrs.  Balfame.  Do 
you  think  you  could  manage  it?  She  might  not  listen 
to  me.  And  —  and  —  if  she  is  a  murderess,  I  don't 
think  I  can  see  her  just  yet." 

"  Youth  is  so  hard !  "  Mrs.  Battle  sighed.  "  But  I 
suppose  it  is  as  well  that  you,  an  unmarried  young 
woman,  and  with  your  way  to  make,  should  keep  in 
the  background.  But  why  should  she  see  those 
women?  Answer  me  that.  It  would  be  more  digni 
fied  for  her  to  ignore  the  press  hereafter." 

"  Perhaps.  But  they  are  predisposed  in  her  favour, 
being  women,  and  would  write  her  up  in  such  a  way  as 
to  make  friends  for  her  among  the  public.  It  is  im 
portant,  if  she  is  to  be  tried  for  her  life,  that  she  should 
not  be  thought  a  monster,  that  she  should  make  all  the 
friends  possible.  The  jury  might  convict  her,  and  it 
would  then  be  necessary,  appeals  also  failing,  to  get  up 
a  petition." 

"  You  always  did  have  brains,  Alys !  "  It  was  Mrs. 
Frew  who  expressed  herself  with  emphasis.  "  I'll  per 
suade  her  myself.  Don't  you  really  think  it  would  be 
wise,  Letitia?  " 


212  MRS.     BALFAME 

"  I  guess  you're  both  right."  Mrs.  Battle  stood  up. 
"  Now  let's  go  out  and  have  tea.  I  ordered  it  for  five- 
thirty.  New  York's  got  nothing  on  us." 

But  Alys,  protesting  that  her  mother  was  old-fash 
ioned  and  still  prepared  supper  for  half  past  six,  ex 
cused  herself  and  left  the  house.  She  found  that 
Colonel  Roosevelt  had  gone  home  and  was  not  sorry 
to  cover  the  half-mile  to  her  own,  briskly,  on  foot. 
What  course  she  eventually  should  take  was  still  un- 
formulated,  but  she  was  glad  that  she  had  not  parted 
with  any  of  her  deeper  knowledge  to  those  kindly 
women  who,  perhaps,  would  have  found  it  the  straw 
too  many.  Let  Enid  Balfame  keep  her  friends  if  she 
could.  Let  her  have  the  whole  State  on  her  side  if  she 
could,  so  long  as  she  lost  Dwight  Rush ! 


CHAPTER  XXIV, 

THE  police,  nettled  by  the  sensational  coup  of  the 
press,  made  a  real  effort  to  discover  the  identity 
of  the  man  or  woman  who  had  fired  the  second  pistol. 
For  a  time  they  devoted  their  efforts  to  implicating 
Frieda  and  young  Kraus,  but  the  pair  emerged  triumph 
antly  from  a  grilling  almost  as  severe  as  the  third  de 
gree;  furthermore,  there  was  an  absolute  lack  of  mo 
tive.  Conrad  had  never  evinced  the  least  interest  in 
politics ;  and  that  Old  Dutch  should  have  commissioned 
the  son  of  whom  he  was  so  proud  to  commit  murder 
when  gun-men  could  be  hired  for  twenty-five  dollars 
apiece  was  unthinkable  to  any  one  familiar  with  the 
thoroughly  decent  home  life  of  the  family  of  Kraus. 

Old  Dutch's  establishment  was  more  of  a  beer  gar 
den  than  a  common  saloon,  and  responsible  for  a  very 
small  proportion  of  the  inebriety  of  the  County  Seat. 
He  and  his  sons  drank  their  beer  at  the  family  board, 
but  nothing  whatever  behind  the  bar.  As  for  Conrad, 
Jr.,  industrious,  ambitious,  persistent,  but  without  a 
spark  of  initiative,  obstinate  and  quick-tempered  but 
amiable  and  rather  dull,  his  tastes  and  domestic  ideals 
as  cautious  as  his  expenditures,  it  was  as  easy  to  trump 
up  a  charge  of  murder  against  him  because  he  hap 
pened  to  have  seen  Mrs.  Balfame  leave  her  house  by  the 
kitchen  door  a  few  moments  before  he  heard  the  shot 
that  killed  her  husband,  as  it  was  to  fasten  the  crime 

213 


214  MRS.     BALFAME 

upon  the  unlovely  Frieda  because  she  ran  home  un 
timely  with  a  toothache. 

Frieda  confessed  imperturbably  to  her  attempt  to 
blackmail  Mrs.  Balfame,  adding  (in  free  translation) 
that  while  she  had  no  desire  to  see  her  arrested  and  pun 
ished,  she  saw  no  reason  why  she  should  not  turn  the 
situation  to  her  own  advantage.  ,When  Papa  Kraus 
was  asked  if  he  had  counselled  the  girl  to  demand  five 
hundred  dollars  as  the  price  of  her  silence,  he  repudi 
ated  the  charge  with  indignation,  but  admitted  that  he 
did  remark  in  the  course  of  conversation  that  no  doubt 
a  woman  who  had  killed  her  husband  would  be  pleased 
to  rid  herself  of  a  witness  on  such  easy  terms,  and  that 
it  was  Frieda's  pious  intention  —  and  his  own  —  that 
the  blood-money  should  justify  itself  in  the  coffers  of 
the  German  Red  Cross. 

All  this  was  very  reprehensible,  of  course;  but  an 
imperfect  sense  of  the  minor  social  and  legal  immorali 
ties  was  no  argument  that  such  blundering  tactics  were 
the  natural  corollary  of  a  specific  murder.  To  be  sure, 
there  were  those  that  asserted  with  firm  lips  and  prag 
matical  eyes  that  "  anybody  who  will  blackmail  will  do 
anything,"  but  the  police  were  accustomed  to  this  line 
of  ratiocination  from  the  layman  and  knew  better. 

Their  efforts  in  every  direction  were  equally  futile. 
Behind  the  Balfame  Place  was  a  lane;  Elsinore  Avenue 
was  practically  the  eastern  boundary  of  the  town,  which 
had  grown  to  the  south  and  west.  There  were  two  or 
three  lowly  dwellers  in  this  lane,  and  in  due  course  the 
memory  of  one  old  man  was  refreshed,  and  he  guessed 
he  remembered  hearing  somebody  crank  up  a  machine 
that  night,  but  at  what  time  he  couldn't  say.  It  was 
after  seven-thirty,  anyhow,  for  he  turned  in  about  then, 


MRS.     BALFAME  215 

and  he  had  heard  the  noise  just  before  dropping  off. 
That  might  have  been  any  time  up  to  eight  or  nine,  he 
couldn't  say,  as  he  slept  with  his  windows  shut  and 
couldn't  hear  the  town  clock.  His  cottage  was  directly 
across  from  a  point  where  the  second  assailant,  running 
out  of  the  grove  and  grounds,  would  have  climbed  the 
fence  to  the  lane  if  he  had  kept  in  a  reasonably  straight 
line.  But  there  had  been  heavy  rains  between  the  night 
of  the  shooting  and  the  awakening  of  the  old  man's 
memory,  and  not  a  track  nor  a  footstep  was  visible. 

The  police  also  searched  the  Balfame  house  from  top 
to  bottom  for  the  pistol  the  prisoner  indubitably  had 
carried  from  the  house  to  the  grove ;  nor  did  they  neg 
lect  the  garden,  yard  and  orchard,  or  any  of  the  old 
wells  in  the  neighbourhood.  They  even  dragged  a 
pond.  Their  zeal  was  but  a  further  waste  of  time.  It 
was  then  they  concluded  that  Mrs.  Balfame  had  gone 
out  deliberately  to  meet  a  confederate  and  that  he  had 
carried  off  both  pistols.  But  who  was  the  confederate 
and  how  did  he  know  at  what  hour  Balfame  would 
reach  his  front  gate  ?  It  was  as  easily  ascertained  that 
Mrs.  Balfame  had  telephoned  no  message  —  from  her 
own  house  —  that  night  as  that  she  had  received  one 
from  her  husband  which  would  give  her  just  the  oppor 
tunity  she  wanted.  But  how  had  she  advised  the  other 
guilty  one  ?  The  poor  police  felt  as  if  they  were  lashed 
to  a  hoop  driven  up  and  down  hill  by  a  mischievous 
little  girl.  All  the  men  who  had  been  at  Cummack's 
when  Balfame  called  up  his  wife  had  left  the  house  be 
fore  he  did,  and  proved  their  alibis.  Even  Cummack, 
who  had  "  sweat  blood  "  during  the  elimination  process, 
had  finally  discovered  that  the  janitor  of  his  office- 
building  had  seen  him  go  in  and  come  out  on  that  fatal 


216  MRS.     BALFAME 

night.  Did  Mrs.  Balfame  go  forth  some  time  after 
Dr.  Anna  brought  her  home  from  the  Country  Club, 
find  her  partner  in  crime  and  secrete  him  in  the  grove  ? 
If  so,  why  did  she  not  remain  in  the  grove  with  him 
instead  of  returning  to  the  house  to  leave  it  again  by  the 
devious  route  that  delivered  her  almost  into  the  arms 
of  young  Kraus?  Above  all,  who  was  the  man? 

It  was  at  this  point  that  the  police  gave  up,  although 
they  still  maintained  a  pretence  of  activity.  Not  so 
the  press.  Almost  daily  there  were  interviews  with 
public  men,  authors,  dramatists,  detectives,  headed : 
"Did  Mrs.  Balfame  Do  It?"  "What  Did  She  Do 
With  the  Pistol?"  "Was  She  Perchance  Ambidex 
terous?  Could  She  Have  Fired  Both  Pistols  at 
Once?"  "Will  She  Be  Acquitted?"  "Was  It  a 
German  Plot?  "  "  If  Guilty,  Would  She  Be  Wise  to 
Confess  And  Plead  Brain  Storm?"  The  interviews 
and  symposiums  that  illuminated  the  Sunday  issues 
were  conducted  by  men,  but  the  evening  papers  had  at 
least  one  interview  or  symposium  a  week  on  the  sub 
ject  between  a  sister  reporter  and  some  woman  of  local 
or  national  fame.  Nothing  could  have  been  more  in 
tellectual  than  the  questions  asked  save,  possibly,  the 
answers  given. 

Upon  the  subject  of  the  defendant's  guilt  public 
opinion  fluctuated,  and  was  not  infrequently  influenced 
by  news  from  the  seat  of  war :  when  it  looked  as  if  the 
Germans  were  primed  for  a  smashing  victory,  the 
doubting  centred  firmly  upon  the  family  of  Kraus  and 
Miss  Frieda  Appel ;  but  when  once  more  convinced  that 
the  Germans  were  fighting  the  long  and  losing  game,  the 
hyphenated  were  banished  in  favour  of  that  far  more 
interesting  suspect,  Mrs.  Balfame.  Certainly  there 


MRS.     BALFAME  217 

was  nothing  more  amusing  than  trying  and  condemning 
a  prisoner  long  before  she  had  time  to  reach  judge  and 
jury,  and  tearing  her  to  shreds  psychologically.  In 
Spain  the  people  high  and  low  still  have  the  bull-fight ; 
other  countries  have  the  prize-ring,  these  being  the  sole 
objective  outlets  in  times  of  peace  for  that  lust  of  blood 
and  prey  which  held  the  spectators  in  a  Roman  arena 
spellbound  when  youths  and  maidens  were  flung  to  the 
lions.  But  in  the  vast  majority  of  Earth's  peoples  this 
ancestral  craving  is  forced  by  Civilisation  to  gratify 
itself  imaginatively,  and  it  is  this  cormorant  in  the 
human  mind  that  the  press  feeds  conscientiously  and 
often. 

In  Elsinore  the  subject  raged  day  and  night,  and  the 
opinion  of  the  man  in  the  street  may  be  summed  up  in 
the  words  of  one  of  them  to  Mr.  James  Broderick  of 
the  New  York  News: 

"  Brain  storm,  nothin'.  She  ain't  that  sort.  She 
done  it  and  done  it  as  deliberately  as  hell.  I  ain't 
sayin'  that  she  didn't  have  some  excuse,  for  I  despised 
Dave  Balfame,  and  I  guess  most  of  us  would  let  her  off 
if  we  served  on  the  jury,  if  only  because  we  don't  want 
this  county  disgraced,  especially  Elsinore.  But  that 
ain't  got  nothin'  to  do  with  it.  And  there's  an  awful 
lot  of  men  who  think  more  of  their  consciences  than 
they  do  even  of  Brabant,  let  alone  of  Elsinore,  where 
like  as  not  all  of  'em  won't  have  been  born  —  the  jurors, 
I  mean.  I'm  just  wonderin' !  " 

Mr.  Broderick  met  Mrs.  Phipps  one  afternoon  at 
A-lys  Crumley's.  She  was  not  a  member  of  the  inner 
twelve,  but  a  staunch  admirer  of  Mrs.  Balfame,  al 
though  by  no  means  sure  of  her  innocence. 

"  Maybe  she  did,"  she  admitted,  "  since  you  are  not 


218  MRS.     BALFAME 

interviewing  me  for  print.  But  it's  yet  to  be  proved, 
and  if  she  does  get  off,  I  don't  fancy  she'll  lose  many 
of  her  friends  —  she  wouldn't  anyhow,  but  then  if  she 
went  up,  they'd  have  so  much  further  to  call !  As  for 
wars,"  she  continued  with  apparent  irrelevance, 
"  there's  this  much  to  be  said :  a  lot  of  good  men  may 
get  killed,  but  when  you  think  of  the  thousands  of  de 
testable,  tyrannical,  stingy,  boresome  husbands  —  well, 
it  is  to  be  imagined  that  a  few  widows  will  manage  to 
bear  up.  If  women  all  over  the  world  refuse  to  come 
forward  in  one  grand  concerted  peace  movement,  per 
haps  we  can  guess  the  reason  why." 

None  of  these  seditious  arguments  reached  Mrs.  Bal- 
fame's  ears,  but  as  her  friends'  protestations  waxed, 
she  inferred  that  their  doubts  kept  pace  with  those  of 
the  public.  But  she  was  more  deeply  touched  at  this 
unshaken  loyalty  than  she  once  would  have  believed 
possible.  She  had  assumed  they  would  drop  off,  as 
soon  as  the  novelty  of  the  affair  had  worn  thin;  but 
not  a  day  passed  without  a  visit  from  one  of  them,  or 
offerings  of  flowers,  fruit,  books  and  bonbons.  She 
knew  that  whatever  their  private  beliefs,  the  best  re 
turn  she  could  make  for  their  passionate  loyalty  was  to 
maintain  the  calm  and  lofty  attitude  of  a  Mary  Stuart 
or  Marie  Antoinette  awaiting  decapitation.  She  shed 
not  a  tear  in  their  presence.  Nor  did  she  utter  a  pro 
test.  If  she  looked  tired  and  worn,  what  more  natural 
in  an  active  woman  suddenly  deprived  of  physical  ex 
ercise  (save  in  the  jail  yard  at  night),  of  sunlight,  of 
freedom  —  to  say  nothing  of  mortification :  she,  Mrs. 
Balfame  of  Elsinore,  shut  up  in  a  common  jail  on  the 
vulgar  charge  of  murder? 

But  in  spite  of  the  amiable  devotion  of  her  friends 


MRS.     BALFAME  219 

and  their  assurances  that  no  jury  alive  would  convict 
her,  and  in  spite  of  her  complete  faith  in  D wight  Rush, 
the  prospect  of  several  months  in  jail  was  almost  in 
supportable  to  Mrs.  Balfame,  and  haunted  by  horrid 
fears.  She  made  up  her  mind  again  and  again  not  to 
read  the  newspapers,  and  she  read  them  morning  and 
night.  She  knew  what  this  terrible  interest  in  her 
meant.  Not  a  talesman  in  the  length  and  breadth  of 
Brabant  County  who  could  swear  truthfully  that  he 
had  formed  no  opinion  on  the  case.  Other  murder 
cases  had  been  tossed  aside  after  a  few  days'  tepid  sen 
sation,  unnoticed  thereafter  save  perfunctorily.  It  was 
her  unhappy  fate  to  prove  an  irresistible  magnet  to  that 
monster  the  Public  and  its  keeper  the  Press.  Her 
hatred  of  both  took  form  at  times  in  a  manner  that  sur 
prised  herself.  She  sprang  out  of  bed  at  night  mut 
tering  curses  and  pulling  at  her  long  braids  of  hair  to 
relieve  the  congestion  in  her  brain.  She  tore  up  the 
newspapers  and  stamped  on  them.  She  beat  the  bars 
before  her  windows  and  shook  them,  the  while  aware 
that  if  the  doors  of  the  jail  were  left  open  and  the 
guards  slept,  she  would  do  nothing  so  foolish  as  to  at 
tempt  an  escape. 

Sometimes  she  wondered,  dull  with  reaction  or  quick 
with  fear,  if  she  were  losing  her  reason;  or  if  she  was, 
after  all,  a  mere  female  whose  starved  nerves  were 
springing  up  in  every  part  of  her  like  poisonous  weeds 
after  a  long  drought.  Well,  if  that  were  the  case,  her 
admiring  friends  should  never  be  the  wiser. 

But  there  were  other  moods.  As  time  wore  on,  she 
grew  to  be  humbly  grateful  to  these  friends,  a  phe 
nomenon  more  puzzling  than  her  attacks  of  furious  re 
bellion.  Even  Sam  Cummack,  possibly  the  only  per- 


220  MRS.     BALFAME 

son  who  had  sincerely  loved  the  dead  man  and  still 
stricken  and  indignant,  but  carefully  manipulated  by 
his  wife,  maintained  a  loud  faith  in  her,  and  announced 
his  intention  to  spend  his  last  penny  in  bringing  the 
real  culprit  to  justice.  Left  to  himself,  he  would  in 
time  no  doubt  have  shared  the  opinion  of  the  commun 
ity,  but  his  wife  was  a  member  of  the  grand  army  of 
diplomatists  of  the  home.  She  was  by  no  means  sure 
of  her  sister-in-law's  innocence,  but  she  was  deter 
mined  that  the  family  scandal  should  go  no  further 
than  a  trial,  if  Mr.  Cummack's  considerable  influence 
on  his  fellow  citizens  could  prevent  it ;  and  long  prac 
tice  upon  the  non-complex  instrument  in  Mr.  Cum 
mack's  head  enabled  her  to  strike  whatever  notes  her 
will  dictated.  Mr.  Cummack  believed ;  and  he  not  only 
convinced  many  of  his  wavering  friends,  but  talked 
"  both  ways  "  to  notable  politicians  in  the  late  Mr. 
Bal  fame's  party.  Most  of  these  gentlemen  were  con 
vinced  that  "  Mrs.  B.  done  it,"  and  were  inclined  to 
throw  the  weight  of  their  influence  against  her  if  only 
to  divert  suspicion  from  themselves,  several  having  ex 
perienced  acute  discomfort;  but  they  agreed  to  "  fix  the 
jury  "  if  Mr.  Cummack  and  several  other  eminent  citi 
zens  whom  they  inferred  were  "  with  him "  would 
"  come  through  in  good  shape."  There  the  matter 
rested  for  the  present. 

Above  all  was  Mrs.  Bal  fame  deeply,  almost  —  but 
not  quite  —  humbly  grateful  to  D wight  Rush.  Her 
interviews  with  him  so  far  had  been  brief;  later  he 
would  have  to  coach  her,  but  at  present  his  time  was 
taken  up  with  a  thousand  other  aspects  of  the  case, 
which  promised  to  be  a  cause  celebre.  He  made  love 
to  her  no  more,  but  not  for  an  instant  did  she  doubt 


MRS.     BALFAME  221 

his  intense  personal  devotion.  He  had,  after  consulta 
tion  with  two  eminent  criminal  lawyers  whom  he  could 
trust,  decided  that  she  should  deny  in  toto  the  Kraus- 
Appel  testimony,  and  stick  to  her  original  story. 
After  all,  it  was  her  word,  the  word  of  a  lady  of  es 
tablished  position  in  her  community  and  of  stainless 
character,  against  that  of  a  surly  German  servant  and 
her  friends,  all  of  them  seething  with  hatred  for  those 
that  were  openly  opposed  to  the  cause  of  the  Father 
land.  He  knew  that  he  could  make  them  ridiculous 
on  the  witness  stand  and  was  determined  to  secure  a 
wholly. American  jury. 

It  was  some  three  weeks  after  Mrs.  Balfame's  ar 
rest  that  another  blow  fell.  Dr.  Anna's  Cassie  sud 
denly  remembered  that  a  fortnight  or  so  before  the 
murder  Mrs.  Balfame  had  called  at  the  cottage  one 
morning  and  asked  permission  to  go  into  the  living- 
room  and  write  a  note  to  the  doctor.  A  moment  or 
two  after  she  had  shut  herself  in,  Cassie  had  gone  out 
to  the  porch  with  her  broom,  and  as  she  wore  felt 
slippers  and  the  front  door  stood  open,  she  had  made 
no  noise.  It  was  quite  by  accident  that  she  had  glanced 
through  the  window,  and  there  she  had  seen  Mrs.  Bal 
fame  standing  on  a  chair  before  a  little  cupboard  in  the 
chimney  placing  a  bottle  carefully  between  two  other 
bottles.  She  had  fully  intended  to  tell  her  mistress  of 
this  strange  performance,  but  as  the  doctor  those  days 
came  home  for  but  a  few  hours'  sleep  and  too  tired  to 
be  spoken  to,  not  even  taking  her  meals  there,  Cassie 
had  postponed  her  little  sensation  and  finally  forgotten 
it. 

When  she  did  recall  the  incident  under  the  pressure 
of  the  general  obsession,  she  told  it  to  a  friend,  who 


222  MRS.     BALFAME 

told  it  to  another,  who  again  imparted  it,  so  that  in 
due  course  it  reached  the  ears  of  the  alert  Mr.  Brod- 
erick.  It  was  then  he  informed  the  public  of  the  lost 
glass  of  lemonade  and  all  the  incidents  pertaining 
thereto  that  had  come  to  his  knowledge.  Mrs.  Bal- 
fame's  slightly  "absurd  explanation  "  was  emphasised. 

Once  more  the  police  were  "  on  the  job."  The  re 
stored  bottle  was  analysed  and,  ominously,  found  to 
contain  plain  water.  Every  bottle  in  the  house  of  Mrs. 
Balfame  was  carried  to  the  chemist.  Mrs.  Balfame 
laughed  grimly  at  these  sturdy  efforts,  but  she  knew 
that  the  story  diminished  her  chance  of  acquittal.  The 
public  now  condemned  her  almost  to  a  man.  The  evi 
dence  would  not  be  allowed  in  court, —  Rush  would  see 
to  that, —  but  every  juror  would  have  read  it  and 
formed  his  own  opinion.  Somewhat  to  her  surprise 
Rush  asked  her  for  no  explanation  of  this  episode,  and 
she  thought  it  best  not  to  volunteer  one.  To  her  other 
friends  she  dismissed  the  whole  thing  casually  as  a 
lie,  no  doubt  inspired. 

As  the  skies  grew  blacker,  however,  her  courage 
mounted  higher.  Knitting  calmed  her  nerves,  and  she 
had  many  long  and  lonely  hours  for  meditation.  Her 
friends  kept  her  supplied  with  all  the  new  novels,  but 
her  mind  was  more  inclined  to  the  war  books,  which 
she  read  seriously  for  the  first  time.  On  the  whole, 
however,  she  preferred  to  knit  for  the  wretched  victims, 
and  to  think. 

No  one  can  suffer  such  a  sudden  and  extreme  change 
in  his  daily  habits  as  a  long  sojourn  in  jail  on  the 
charge  of  murder  without  forming  a  new  and  possibly 
an  astonished  acquaintance  with  his  inner  self,  and 
without  undergoing  what,  superficially,  appear  to  be 


MRS.    BALFAME  223 

strange  changes,  but  are  merely  developments  along 
new-laid  tracks  in  sections  of  the  brain  hitherto  re 
garded  as  waste  lands. 

Mrs.  Balfame  of  Brabant  County  Jail  was  surprised 
to  discover  that  she  looked  back  upon  Mrs.  Balfame 
of  Elsinore  as  a  person  of  small  aims,  and  rather  too 
smugly  bourgeoise.  The  world  of  Elsinore! 

And  all  those  artificial  interests  and  occupations! 
How  bored  she  really  must  have  been,  playing  with 
subjects  that  either  should  have  interested  her  pro 
foundly  or  not  at  all.  And  for  what  purpose? 
Merely  to  keep  a  step  ahead  of  other  women  of  greater 
wealth  or  possible  ambitions.  Her  astonishment  at 
not  finding  herself  all-sufficient,  as  well  as  her  new 
sense  of  gratitude,  bred  humility  which  in  turn  shed  a 
warm  rain  upon  a  frozen  and  discouraged  sense  of 
humour.  While  giving  her  friends  all  credit  for  their 
noble  loyalty,  she  was  quite  aware  that  they  were  en 
joying  themselves  solemnly  and  that  no  small  propor 
tion  of  their  loyalty  was  inspired  by  gratitude.  She 
recalled  their  composite  expression  in  the  hour  of  her 
arrest.  They  had  fancied  themselves  deeply  agitated, 
but  as  a  matter  of  fact  they  were  dilated  with  pride. 

Why  had  she  cared  so  much  to  lead  these  women  in 
all  things,  to  be  Mrs.  Balfame  of  Elsinore?  To  re 
turn  to  such  an  existence  was  unthinkable. 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  her  own  tragedy  dwarfed 
somewhat  her  interest  in  the  great  war,  she  saw  life  in 
something  like  its  true  proportions;  she  knew  that  if 
acquitted  she  would  be  capable  for  the  first  time  of  a 
broad  impersonal  outlook  and  of  really  developing  her 
intellect.  With  more  than  a  remnant  of  the  cold 
blooded  and  inexorable  will  which  had  condemned 


224  MRS.     BALFAME 

David  Balfame  to  death  by  the  medium  of  Dr.  Anna's 
secret  poison,  she  seriously  considered  taking  advan 
tage  of  young  Rush's  infatuation,  changing  her  no 
torious  name  for  his  and  receiving  the  protection  that 
her  awakened  femininity  craved.  At  other  times  she 
was  equally  convinced  that  she  would  marry  no  man 
again.  She  could  live  in  Europe  on  her  small  income, 
travel,  improve  her  mind.  Europe  would  be  vastly 
interesting  after  the  war,  if  one  avoided  beggars  and 
impromptu  graveyards. 

But  although  she  was  deeply  interested  in  herself, 
and  gratified  that  she  possessed  real  courage,  and  that 
it  had  come  through  the  fire  tempered  and  hardened, 
there  were  moments,  particularly  in  the  night,  and  if  the 
profound  stillness  were  rent  with  the  shrieks  of 
drunken  maniacs,  when  she  was  terribly  frightened; 
and  in  spite  of  the  American  tradition  which  has  set  at 
liberty  so  many  guilty  women,  she  would  stare  at  the 
awful  vision  of  the  electric  chair  and  herself  strapped 
in  it. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

RUSH  wheeled  and  looked  sharply  behind  him. 
For  several  weeks  he  had  experienced  the  re 
current  sensation  of  being  followed,  but  until  to-night 
he  had  been  too  absorbed  to  give  a  vague  suspicion 
definite  form.  He  stood  still,  and  was  immediately 
aware  that  somebody  else  had  halted,  after  withdraw 
ing  into  the  shade  of  one  of  the  trees  that  lined  At 
lantic  Avenue.  He  approached  this  figure  swiftly,  but 
almost  at  his  first  step  it  detached  itself  and  strolled 
forward.  Rush  saw  that  it  was  a  woman,  and  then 
recognised  Miss  Sarah  Austin  of  the  New  York  Even 
ing  News.  He  recalled  that  she  had  approached  him 
several  times  with  the  request  for  an  interview  with 
Mrs.  Balfame;  and  that  she  had  taxed  his  politeness 
by  trying  to  draw  him  into  a  discussion  of  the  case. 

"  Oh,  good  evening,"  he  said  grimly.  "  I  turned 
back  because  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  was  being  fol 
lowed." 

"  I  was  following  you,"  Miss  Austin  retorted  coolly. 
"  I  saw  you  turn  into  the  Avenue  two  blocks  up,  and 
tried  to  overtake  you — I  don't  like  to  be  out  so  late 
alone,  especially  in  this  haunted  village.  The  knowl 
edge  that  everybody  in  it  is  thinking  of  that  murder 
nearly  all  the  time  has  a  curious  psychological  effect. 
Won't  you  walk  as  far  as  Alys  Crumley's  with  me?  " 

"  Certainly!  "  Rush,  wondering  if  all  women  were 
liars,  fell  into  step. 

225 


226  MRS.     BALFAME 

"  I've  been  given  a  roving  commission  in  the  Bal- 
fame  case,"  continued  Miss  Austin  in  her  impersonal 
businesslike  manner,  which,  combined  with  her  youth 
and  good  looks,  had  surprised  guarded  .facts  from  men 
as  wary  as  Rush.  "  Not  to  hunt  for  additional  evi 
dence,  of  course,  but  stuff  for  good  stories.  I've  had 
a  number  of  dandy  interviews  with  prominent  Elsi- 
nore  women,  as  you  may  have  seen  if  you  conde 
scend  to  glance  at  the  Woman's  Page.  Isn't  it  won 
derful  how  they  stand  by  her?  " 

"  Why  not?  They  believe  her  to  be  innocent,  as  of 
course  she  is." 

"  How  automatically  you  said  that !  I  wonder  if 
you  really  believe  it  —  unless,  of  course,  you  know  who 
did  do  it.  But  in  that  case  you  would  produce  the  real 
culprit.  What  a  tangle  it  is !  A  lawyer  has  to  believe 
in  his  client's  innocence,  I  suppose,  unless  he's  quite 
an  uncommon  jury  actor.  I  don't  know  what  to  be 
lieve,  myself.  But  of  one  thing  I  am  convinced: 
Alys  Crumley  knows  something  —  something  posi 
tive." 

Rush,  who  had  paid  little  attention  to  her  chatter, 
which  he  rightly  assumed  to  be  a  mere  verbal  process 
of  "  leading  up,"  turned  to  her  sharply. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that?  " 

"  That  she  knows  something.  She's  over  on  the 
News  now,  understudying  the  fashion  editor  before 
taking  charge,  and  we  lunch  together  nearly  every  day. 
She's  so  changed  from  what  she  was  a  year  ago,  when 
she  was  the  life  of  the  crowd  —  so  naive  in  her  eager 
ness  to  become  a  real  metropolitan,  and  yet  so  quick 
and  keen  she  had  us  all  on  our  mettle.  Great  girl, 
Alys !  At  first,  when  I  met  her  here  again,  I  attributed 


MRS.     BALFAME  227 

the  change  to  the  same  old  reason  —  a  man.  I  still 
believe  she  has  had  some  heart-racking  experience,  but 
there's  something  else  —  I  didn't  notice  it  so  much  that 
first  day  —  but  since  —  well,  she's  carrying  a  mental 
burden  of  some  sort.  Alys  has  a  damask  cheek,  as  you 
may  have  noticed,  but  nowadays  there's  a  worm  in  the 
bud.  And  those  olive  eyes  of  hers  have  a  way  of  leav 
ing  you  suddenly  and  travelling  a  thousand  miles  with 
an  expression  that  isn't  just  blank.  They  will  look  as 
grimly  determined  as  if  she  were  about  to  turn  her 
conscience  loose,  and  in  a  moment  this  will  relax  into 
an  expression  of  curious  irresolution  —  for  her :  Alys 
always  knows  pretty  well  what  she  wants.  So,  as  this 
mystery  must  be  in  her  consciousness  pretty  well  all  the 
time,  when  she  is  at  home,  at  least,  I  feel  sure  she  knows 
something  but  is  of  two  minds  about  telling  it  to  the 
police." 

"  Have  you  any  object  in  telling  me  this?  I  thought 
you  modern  women  who  have  deserted  the  mere  home 
for  the  working  world  of  men  prided  yourselves  upon 
a  new  code  of  loyalty  to  one  another." 

"  That's  a  nasty  one !  I'm  not  disloyal  to  Alys. 
Others  have  noticed  that  there's  something  big  and 
grim  on  her  mind,  as  well  as  I.  Jim  Broderick  is  al 
ways  after  her  to  open  up.  I  have  a  very  distinct  rea 
son  for  telling  you.  In  fact,  I  have  tried  to  get  a  word 
with  you  for  some  time." 

"  Have  you  been  following  me  ?  Were  —  were  — 
you  in  Brooklyn  yesterday?  " 

"  Yes,  to  both  questions."  Her  voice  shook,  but  her 
eyes  challenged  him  imperiously ;  they  were  under  the 
bright  lights  of  Main  Street.  "  I'll  tell  you  what  I  be 
lieve  Alys  knows:  that  you  killed  David  Balfame;  and 


228  MRS.     BALFAME 

she  can't  make  up  her  mind  to  betray  you  even  to 
liberate  an  innocent  woman." 

He  was  taken  unawares,  but  she  could  detect  no  re 
laxation  in  his  strong  face ;  on  the  contrary,  it  set  more 
grimly. 

"  And  what  are  you  up  to?  "  he  asked. 

"  To  find  the  proof  for  myself,  and  get  ahead  of  Jim 
Broderick." 

"  I  know  of  no  one  so  convinced  of  Mrs.  Balfame's 
guilt  as  Broderick." 

"  That's  all  right,  but  a  man  with  as  keen  a  scent 
as  that  is  likely  to  find  the  real  trail  any  minute." 

"  And  you  believe  I  did  it?  " 

"  I  think  there  are  reasons  for  believing  it." 

"  I  won't  ask  you  for  them.  It  doesn't  matter,  par 
ticularly.  What  interests  me  is  to  know  whether  you 
believe  that  if  I  had  committed  the  crime  of  murder 
I  would  let  a  woman  suffer  in  my  stead." 

Miss  Austin  cerebrated. 

"  No,"  she  admitted  unwillingly,  "  you  don't  strike 
one  as  that  sort.  But  then  you  might  argue  that  she  is 
reasonably  sure  of  acquittal  and  you  would  have  scant 
hope  of  escaping  the  chair." 

Rush  laughed  aloud.  It  was  a  harsh  sound,  but 
there  was  no  nervousness  in  it,  and  he  continued  to  look 
interrogatively  at  Miss  Austin.  He  had  barely  noticed 
her  before,  but  he  observed  that  she  was  a  handsome 
girl  with  a  clean-cut  honest  face,  a  bright  detecting  eye, 
and  the  slim  well-set-up  figure  of  an  athletic  boy.  Her 
peculiar  type  of  good  looks  was  displayed  to  its  best 
advantage  by  the  smartly  tailored  suit. 

"  You  hardly  look  the  sort  to  run  a  man  down,"  he 
murmured,  and  this  time  he  smiled. 


MRS.     BALFAME  229 

"One  gets  mighty  keen  on  the  chase  in  this  busi 
ness."  They  turned  into  the  deep  shade  of  Elsinore 
Avenue,  and  she  stood  still  and  lowered  her  voice.  "If 
you  would  tell  me,"  she  said,  "  I'd  swear  never  to  be 
tray  you." 

"  Then  why  ask  me  to  confess  ?  " 

"  Oh  —  it  sounds  rather  banal  —  but  I  want  to  write 
fiction,  big  fiction,  and  I  want  to  come  up  against  the 
big  tragedies  and  secrets  of  the  human  soul.  If  you 
would  tell  me  the  whole  story,  exactly  how  you  have  felt 
at  every  stage  and  phase  before  and  since,  I  feel  almost 
sure  that  I  could  write  as  big  a  book  as  Dostoiewsky's 
"Crime  and  Punishment"  —  not  half  so  long,  of 
course.  If  we  learn  from  other  nations,  we  can  teach 
them  a  thing  or  two  in  return.  You  may  ask  what 
you  are  to  expect  in  return  for  a  dangerous  confidence. 
I  not  only  never  would  betray  you,  but  I'd  make  it  my 
study  to  divert  suspicion  from  pointing  your  way.  I 
could  do  it,  too.  You  are  safe  as  far  as  Alys  is  con 
cerned.  The  secret  is  oppressing  her  terribly,  and  she's 
driven  by  the  fear  that  her  conscience  will  suddenly  re 
volt  and  force  her  to  speak  out  —  particularly  if  Mrs. 
Balfame  broke  down  in  jail,  to  say  nothing  of  a  pos 
sible  conviction  —  not  that  I  believe  anything  short  of 
conviction  would  open  her  lips.  You  are  the  last  per 
son  on  earth  she  would  hand  over  to  the  law ;  it  seems 
odd  to  me  you  can't  realise  that  for  yourself." 

"Realise  what?" 

"  Oh,  I've  no  patience  with  men !  I  never  did  share 
the  platitudinous  belief  in  propinquity.  Why,  Alys  has 
turned  half  the  heads  in  Park  Row.  Even  the  austere 
city  editor  is  beginning  to  hover.  How  any  man  could 
pass  a  live  wire  like  Alys  Crumley  by  —  and  distract- 


230  MRS.     BALFAME 

ingly  pretty  —  for  a  woman  old  enough  to  be  her 
mother!" 

He  caught  his  breath. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Balfame." 

"  And  yet  you  accuse  me  of  letting  her  lie  in  prison 
bearing  the  burden  of  my  crime?  " 

"  As  the  only  way  to  possess  her  ultimately." 

"  And  how  many,  may  I  ask,  are  saying  that  I  am  in 
love  with  my  client  ?  " 

"  Not  a  soul  —  save,  possibly,  Alys  to  herself.  She 
doesn't  seem  to  have  much  enthusiasm  for  the  Star  of 
Elsinore.  Provincial  people  are  too  funny  for  words. 
Maybe  we  New  Yorkers  are  also  provincial  in  our 
tendency  to  forget  there  is  any  other  America.  I  in 
tend  to  cultivate  the  open  mind ;  a  writer  must,  I  think. 
So  you  see  just  how  in  earnest  I  am.  Don't  you  believe 
you  could  trust  me  ?  All  the  world  knows  that  a  news 
paper  person  is  the  safest  depository  on  earth  for  a 
secret." 

"  Oh,  I  have  the  most  touching  confidence  in  your 
honour,  and  the  most  profound  admiration  for  your 
candour,  and  the  deepest  sympathy  for  ambitions  so 
natural  to  one  afflicted  with  genius.  I  am  only  won 
dering  whether  if  I  gave  you  the  information  you  seem 
to  need  you  would  permit  Mrs.  Balfame  to  remain  in 
jail  and  stand  trial  for  her  life." 

"  You  are  not  to  laugh  at  me !  Yes,  I  should.  Be 
cause  I  know  that  she  has  ninety-nine  chances  out  of 
a  hundred  to  get  off,  and  that  if  she  were  condemned 
you  would  come  forward  at  once  and  tell  the  truth." 

"  And  you  really  believe  I  did  it  ?  "  His  hands  were 
in  his  pockets,  and  he  was  balancing  himself  on  his 


MRS.    BALFAME  231 

heels.  There  was  certainly  nothing  tense  about  his 
tall  loose  figure,  but  the  light  of  the  street  lamp,  filtered 
through  a  low  branch,  threw  shadows  on  his  face  that 
made  it  look  pallid  and  as  darkly  hollowed  as  the  face 
of  an  elderly  actress  in  a  moving  picture.  To  Miss 
Sarah  Austin  he  looked  like  a  guilty  man  engaged  in 
the  honourable  art  of  bluffing,  but  her  mounting  irrita 
tion  precluded  pity. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Rush,  I  do.  It  is  to  my  mind  the  one 
logical  explanation  — " 

"  You  mean  the  logical  fictional  — " 

"  I'm  no  writer  of  detective  stories  — " 

"  Just  like  a  novel  then  ?  " 

"  Ah !  That  I  admit.  The  great  novel  is  a  logical 
transcript  of  life.  The  incidents  rise  out  of  the  charac 
ters,  react  upon  them,  are  as  inevitable  as  the  personal 
endowments,  peculiarities,  and  contradictions.  Under 
stand  your  characters,  and  you  can't  go  wrong." 

"  You  are  the  cleverest  young  woman  I  ever  met. 
For  that  reason  I  feel  convinced  you  need  no  such  ad 
ventitious  aid  as  confession  from  a  murderer.  You 
will  work  it  out  —  your  premises  being  dead  right  — 
far  better  by  yourself.  It's  the  contradictions  you 
mentioned  I  am  thinking  of,  both  in  life  and  charac 
ter." 

"  You  are  laughing  at  me.  It's  no  laughing  mat 
ter!" 

"  By  God,  it  isn't.  But  you  couldn't  expect  me  to 
plump  out  a  confession  like  that  without  taking  a  night 
to  think  it  over." 

"If  you  don't  tell  me,  I  warn  you  I'll  find  out  for  my 
self.  And  then  I'll  give  it  to  my  newspaper.  To  be 
gin  with,  I'll  find  out  if  you  really  did  see  any  one  in 


232  MRS.    BALFAME 

Brooklyn  that  Saturday  night.  I'll  discover  the  name 
of  everybody  you  know  in  Brooklyn." 

"  That's  a  large  order.     I  fear  the  case  will  be  over." 

"  I'll  set  the  whole  swarm  on  the  case.  But  if  you 
will  tell  me  the  truth,  you  will  be  quite  safe." 

"  The  cause  of  literature  might  influence  me  were  it 
not  that  I  fear  to  be  thought  a  coward  —  by  my  fair 
blackmailer." 

"  Oh !  How  dare  you  ?  Why,  I  don't  want  your 
secret  to  use  against  you.  I  thought  I  explained — • 
how  dare  you !  " 

"  I  humbly  beg  pardon.  Perhaps  as  it  is  such  a  new 
and  flattering  variety,  it  deserves  a  new  name.  I  sup 
pose  the  legal  mind  becomes  hopelessly  automatic  in  its 
deductions  — " 

"Oh,  goodnight!" 

They  were  at  the  Crumley  gate.  Rush  opened  it  and 
passed  in  behind  her.  "  I  think  I  too  will  call  on  Miss 
Crumley,"  he  said.  "  I  have  been  too  busy  to  call  on 
any  one  for  weeks,  but  to-night  I  must  take  a  rest, 
and  I  can  imagine  no  rest  so  complete  as  an  evening 
in  Miss  Crumley's  studio.  I  see  a  light  in  there  —  let 
us  go  round  and  not  disturb  Mrs.  Crumley." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

MISS  AUSTIN  remained  but  a  few  moments  in 
the  studio.  She  was  embarrassed  and  angry, 
and  Rush  was  not  the  sole  object  of  her  wrath:  she 
anathematised  herself  not  only  for  permitting  her  liter 
ary  enthusiasm  to  carry  her  to  the  point  of  attempting 
coercion  and  running  the  risk  of  being  called  bad  names 
by  an  expert  in  crime,  but  for  speaking  out  impul 
sively  in  the  first  place  and  throwing  her  cards  on 
the  table.  It  had  been  her  intention  to  cultivate  the 
wretch's  acquaintance  and  lead  him  on  with  excessive 
subtlety;  but  he  had  proved  impervious  to  her  maid 
enly  hints  that  she  would  like  to  know  him  better; 
equally  so  to  her  boyish  invitation  to  come  over  some 
evening  and  meet  a  number  of  the  newspaper  girls  who 
were  all  fighting  for  his  client.  Fifteen  minutes  alone 
with  him  in  the  quiet  streets  of  Elsinore  at  night  was  an 
opportunity  that  might  never  come  again,  and  she  had 
surrendered  to  impulse. 

She  was  now  more  deeply  convinced  than  ever  that 
he  had  killed  David  Balfame,  but  although  she  had  no 
intention  of  denouncing  him  even  if  she  found  her 
proofs  in  the  course  of  persistent  sleuthing,  she  thought 
it  wise  to  "  keep  him  guessing,"  as  the  uneasiness  of 
mind  caused  by  this  constant  pressure  from  without 
might  eventually  drive  him  to  her  for  counsel  and  aid. 
Like  all  healthy  young  American  writers  of  fiction,  she 
was  an  incurable  optimist,  and  as  yet  untempered  in  the 

233 


234  MRS.     BALFAME 

least  by  the  practical  experiences  of  a  New  York  re 
porter. 

After  a  few  moments'  desultory  conversation,  she  an 
nounced  that  she  "  must  run,"  and  as  Alys  opened  the 
door,  Miss  Austin  turned  to  the  lawyer,  who  had  risen 
and  stood  by  the  stove. 

"  Good  night,  Mr.  Rush,"  she  said  sweetly.  "  So 
glad  you  are  defending  poor  Mrs.  Balfame,  but  you 
know  I  never  did  believe  she  did  it,  and  I  have  good 
reason  to  hope  that  we  shall  all  know  the  truth  in  about 
a  fortnight." 

Rush  bowed  politely,  as  she  did  not  offer  her  hand. 
"  You  would  save  me  much  trouble  and  Mrs.  Balfame 
much  expense.  I  wish  you  all  good  luck." 

Her  brows  met  and  her  dark  grey  eyes  turned  black, 
but  she  swung  on  her  heel  and  marched  out  with  her 
head  in  the  air.  Rush  remained  behind,  as  it  was  evi 
dent  the  two  girls  wanted  a  last  mysterious  word  to 
gether. 

Alys  returned  in  a  few  moments,  and  with  a  swift 
step.  Her  face  was  radiant.  She  too  held  her  head 
high,  but  as  if  she  lifted  her  face  to  drink  in  some  magic 
elixir  of  the  night.  This  was  the  first  time  she  had  seen 
Rush  since  he  had  immersed  himself  in  the  case,  and 
now  he  had  come  to  her  unasked,  and  as  naturally  as 
in  the  old  days  when  weary  with  work  and  the  sordid 
revelations  of  the  courts.  Her  mercurial  spirits,  which 
had  hung  low  in  the  scale  for  weeks,  had  gone  up  with 
a  rush  that  filled  her  with  a  reckless  unreasoning  happi 
ness.  Perhaps  intimacy  with  Mrs.  Balfame  had  dis 
illusioned  him  in  little  ways.  Perhaps  he  had  discov 
ered  the  truth  for  himself  and  despised  her  for  a  cold 
blooded  liar  where  he  might  have  forgiven  her  honest 


MRS.     BALFAME  235 

admission  of  the  actual  crime.  It  would  be  just  like  his 
exaggerated  idealism.  There  never  was  any  love  that 
could  not  be  killed  by  transgression  of  some  pet  preju 
dice,  some  violation  of  secret  fastidiousness.  At  all 
events,  he  was  here  and  with  every  appearance  of  spend 
ing  a  long  evening.  What  did  the  rest  matter  ? 

He  was  still  standing  as  she  entered,  staring  at  a 
water  colour  of  a  bit  of  the  woods  west  of  Elsinore. 
The  trees  were  stately  and  old,  the  shadows  green  and 
shot  with  the  gold  of  some  stray  beam  of  the  sun  danc 
ing  down  through  that  heavy  canopy  with  Puckish  tri 
umph.  A  rocky  brook  crossed  the  glade,  and  behind 
was  a  subtle  suggestion  of  the  uninterrupted  forest,  de 
serted  and  absolutely  still.  Rush  had  recognised  the 
spot. 

"  My  village,  Rennselaerville,  is  on  the  other  side/'  he 
said,  turning  a  boyish  face  to  Alys.  "  I  have  been 
fourteen  again  for  a  few  moments.  Last  summer  I 
only  got  a  day  off  now  and  again  to  loaf  in  those 
woods.  I  wish  I  had  been  with  you  when  you  painted 
this." 

She  unhooked  the  picture  and  handed  it  to  him. 
"  Please  let  me  give  it  to  you.  I'd  like  so  much  if  you 
would  hang  it  in  one  of  your  rooms, —  say  behind  your 
desk, —  so  that  when  you  are  tired  or  puzzled  you  can 
wheel  about  and  lose  yourself  for  a  moment.  I  am 
sure  it  wouldn't  be  a  bad  substitute  for  the  real  thing." 

She  spoke  with  a  shy  eagerness  and  an  entire  absence 
of  coquetry.  He  put  out  both  hands  for  the  picture. 

"  I  should  think  it  wouldn't.  It  is  just  like  you  to 
think  of  it.  Indeed  I  will  accept  it."  And  he  remem 
bered  how  many  cases  he  had  forgotten  under  her 
kindly  tact,  both  in  this  cool  green  studio  and  that  other 


236  MRS.    BALFAME 

room  of  woodland  shades  in  the  cottage.  He  was 
wondering  if  he  had  not  been  a  conceited  ass  and  mis 
construed  an  increasing  warmth  of  friendship  in  this 
fine  impulsive  creature,  when  he  remembered  Miss  Aus 
tin's  insinuations  and  sat  down  abruptly,  recalled  to 
the  object  of  his  visit. 

Alys  had  invited  him  to  smoke  but  had  not  pro 
duced  her  box  of  Russian  cigarettes.  Miss  Austin, 
who  was  determined  to  keep  her  nerves  in  order  and 
her  efficiency  at  high-water  mark,  did  not  smoke,  and 
Rush  had  his  prejudices.  While  he  puffed  away  at  his 
cigar  and  stretched  his  long  legs  out  to  the  fire,  she 
leaned  back  against  a  mass  of  pillows  on  the  divan  and 
congratulated  herself  that  she  had  put  on  a  charming 
primrose-yellow  gown  in  honour  of  her  Aunt  Dissos- 
way  and  two  other  guests  entertained  by  her  mother  at 
supper.  It  was  rhythmical  in  its  harmony  with  the 
olives  of  the  room  and  of  her  own  rare  colouring. 

Rush,  who  had  been  studying  his  picture,  looked  up 
and  smiled  at  the  other  picture  on  the  divan.  In  the 
soft  lamplight  Alys'  smooth  dark  hair  looked  as  olive  as 
her  eyes,  and  there  was  a  faint  stain  of  pink  on  the  ivory 
of  her  cheeks.  Beneath  the  lace  that  covered  her  slen 
der  bust  was  a  delicate  note  of  ribbons  and  fine  lawn, 
and  the  little  feet  in  pointed  bronze  slippers  showed 
through  transparent  stockings.  More  by  instinct  than 
calculated  effect  Alys  on  such  occasions  managed  to 
create  an  aura  of  fastidious  and  dainty  femininity  while 
stopping  short  of  invitation. 

Rush  scowled  as  his  mind  leaped  to  the  substantial 
and  sensibly  clad  feet  of  his  beautiful  client,  and  to  a 
pile  of  stout  unribboned  underwear  that  had  been 
brought  into  the  jail  sitting-room  one  day  when  he 


MRS.     BALFAME  237 

awaited  her  tardy  appearance.  For  the  first  time  he 
wondered  if  such  things  really  counted  in  human  happi 
ness —  not  so  much,  perhaps,  for  the  artistic  delight 
in  them  that  a  plain  man  like  himself  might  be  able  to 
feel  as  for  all  that  they  stood :  the  elusive  but  auspicious 
signal. 

He  shook  himself  angrily  and  sat  up. 

''  Your  young  friend  thinks  I  murdered  Balfame," 
he  announced. 

Alys  started  under  this  frontal  attack,  but  smiled 
ironically.  "  I  knew  she  had  conceived  some  such  non 
sensical  theory,  mainly  because  she  wanted  to  have  it 
so.  Sarah  intends  to  be  a  novelist." 

"  So  she  did  me  the  honour  to  confide.  She  even 
promised  me  all  the  immunity  that  lay  within  her  juris 
diction  if  I  would  reward  her  with  a  full  confession." 

"  Really,  she  is  too  absurd.  Don't  let  it  worry  you. 
You  have  nothing  to  fear." 

"  I'm  not  so  sure." 

Alys  sat  up  as  rigidly  as  if  armoured  like  Mrs.  Bat 
tle.  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  breathed. 

"  Miss  Austin  has  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  I 
am  in  love  with  Mrs.  Balfame.  She  is  an  outsider  with 
no  data  whatever  to  work  on;  it  is  reasonable  to  sup 
pose  that  sooner  or  later  our  good  fellow  citizens  will 
work  round  to  the  same  theory." 

(t  That  is  just  the  one  theory  they  never  will  conceive 
or  accept.  They  know  better.  That  sort  of  thing 
never  was  in  Mrs.  Bal fame's  line.  The  women  know 
that  if  she  doesn't  exactly  hate  men,  she  has  a  quiet 
but  profound  contempt  for  them.  I  wish  you  could 
have  seen  them  —  her  particular  crowd  —  at  Mrs.  Bat 
tle's  the  day  of  the  arrest.  Just  to  draw  them  out, 


238  MRS.    BALFAME 

I  suggested  that  some  man  who  was  in  love  with  her 
might  have  fired  the  shot.  They  nearly  annihilated  me. 
Mrs.  Balfame,  guilty  of  the  crime  of  murder  or  not, 
is  fairly  screwed  on  her  pedestal  so  far  as  the  women 
are  concerned.  As  for  the  men,  such  a  theory  will 
never  occur  to  them  for  the  simple  reason  that  not  one 
has  ever  been  attracted  by  her;  she's  the  very  last 
woman  they  would  expect  any  man  to  commit  mur 
der  for." 

Rush,  wondering  if  these  observations  were  dic 
tated  by  venom  or  a  mere  regard  for  facts,  shot  a 
veiled  glance  at  the  divan;  Miss  Crumley's  soft  care 
fully  de-Americanised  voice  had  not  sharpened,  but 
her  face  was  very  mobile  for  all  its  reserve.  She 
was  looking  almost  aggressively  impersonal  and  had 
sunk  back  against  the  high  pillows  in  a  limp  indolent 
line.  Facts,  of  course! 

"  It  is  very  like  a  political  campaign/'  said  he. 
"  Nobody  is  quite  sane  in  this  town  just  now,  and 
the  wildest  conclusions  are  bound  to  be  jumped  at. 
It  is  not  only  embryo  novelists  that  have  romantic 
imaginations.  Just  reflect  that  I  am  Mrs.  Balfame's 
counsel,  that  I  am  still  a  young  man  and  unmarried, 
and  that  she  is  a  beautiful  woman  and  looks  many 
years  younger  than  her  age.  There  you  are." 

Alys  made  an  abrupt  change  of  position  which  in 
one  less  graceful  would  have  suggested  a  wriggle. 
However,  her  voice  remained  impersonal.  "  But  this 
community,  including  her  friends,  believe  that  she 
did  it.  They  want  her  to  get  off,  but  they  have  set 
tled  the  question  in  their  own  minds  and  are  not  look 
ing  around  for  any  one  else." 

"  Cummack  and  several  of  the  other  men  are,  be- 


MRS.    BALFAME  239 

sides  Balfame's  old  political  pals  —  and  his  enemies, 
for  that  matter.  Old  Dutch,  who  is  far  shrewder 
than  his  son,  is  by  no  means  certain  of  Mrs.  Bal 
fame's  guilt  and  has  put  a  detective  on  the  job  — 
against  her  acquittal,  having  no  desire  to  see  sus 
picion  pointing  at  his  house  again.  He  is  just  the 
old  sentimentalist  to  settle  on  me." 

He  saw  the  pink  fade  out  of  her  cheeks,  leaving 
her  face  like  cold  ivory,  but  she  answered  steadily: 
"  You  have  your  alibi.  You  went  to  Brooklyn  that 
evening  to  keep  an  appointment." 

"  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  although  I  went 
to  Brooklyn  that  night  I  did  not  see  the  man  I  was 
after.  I  went  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  more  be 
cause  I  wanted  to  get  out  of  Elsinore  than  anything 
else;  I  didn't  have  time  to  telephone  before  catching 
the  train,  but  when  I  left  it  in  Brooklyn,  I  telephoned 
and  found  that  he  had  gone  to  New  York.  I  gave 
no  name;  it  was  a  matter  of  no  importance.  Then 
as  there  was  no  one  else  I  cared  to  talk  to  I  took  the 
next  train  back,  and  as  my  head  ached  and  I  felt  as 
nervous  as  a  cat  —  from  overwork  and  other  things 
—  tramped  for  hours  until  I  met  Dr.  Anna,  out  by 
the  marsh  and  she  drove  me  in — " 

"Dr.  Anna?" 

"  Yes,  and  I  have  reason  to  believe  she  thinks  I 
shot  Balfame,  but  she  would  never  denounce  any  one 
if  she  could  help  it." 

"  Oh,  you  are  all  wrong.  She  believes  —  like 
everybody  else  —  that  Mrs.  Balfame  did  it.  My 
Aunt  Dissosway  is  superintendent  out  there  and  has 
been  listening  to  her  delirious  mutterings ;  she's  never 
mentioned  you.  I  drove  out  there  for  the  second 


240  MRS.     BALFAME 

time  on  Sunday.  I  haven't  told  Mother,  as  she  is 
one  of  the  few  that  believe  Mrs.  Balfame  innocent 
—  but  when  Dr.  Anna  is  coherent  at  all,  that  is  the 
impression  my  aunt  gets  —  but  —  Oh  —  of  course 
she's  only  guessing  like  everybody  else.  She  couldn't 
know  —  she  was  out  at  the  Houston  farm  — " 

Rush  was  sitting  up  very  straight. 

"  Has  any  one  been  permitted  to  see  her?  " 

"  Of  course  not." 

"  Not  that  it  would  matter.  Delirious  people  all 
have  insane  fancies.  But  I  don't  believe  she  had  any 
such  idea  before  she  came  down,  and  besides  it  is 
not  true.  Mrs.  Balfame  is  innocent." 

"Of  course  as  her  lawyer  you  must  persuade  your 
self  that  she  is." 

"  If  I  had  not  believed  in  her,  I  would  not  have 
taken  the  case,  great  as  my  desire  would  be  to  help 
her.  I  am  no  good  at  pleading  against  my  convic 
tions;  I'd  fail  with  the  jury.  If  I  had  believed  her 
guilty,  I  should  have  got  her  the  best  counsel  possible 
and  helped  him  all  I  could." 

Alys  had  a  curious  sense  of  physical  paralysis,  or 
of  spiritual  dissociation  from  her  body,  she  made  no 
attempt  to  decide  which;  but  that  the  cause  was  an 
intense  nervous  excitement  she  was  well  aware.  As 
she  stared  at  him  with  dilated  eyes,  he  was  suddenly 
convinced  that  Miss  Austin  was  right  in  assuming 
that  Alys  had  some  secret  and  important  knowledge 
bearing  upon  the  crime.  Was  her  reticence  due  to 
the  common  Elsinore  loyalty?  If  so,  why  her  re 
serve  with  him  who  would  have  parted  with  his  life 
rather  than  with  any  facts  that  still  further  would 
incriminate  Mrs.  Balfame. 


MRS.     BALFAME  241 

Then  in  a  flash  he  understood,  for  his  keen  facul 
ties  were  on  edge,  concentrated  to  one  point,  and  as 
sensitive  as  magnets.  He  recalled  his  high  estimate 
of  this  girl  during  the  weeks  of  their  intimacy,  and 
the  instinctive  doubts  that  had  assailed  him  in  his 
rooms  on  the  night  of  the  murder.  And  as  he 
realised  the  fierce  battle  that  was  raging  in  that  pas 
sionate  but  disciplined  soul,  he  knew  that  she  loved 
him,  and  he  scorned  himself  for  attributing  her  for 
mer  tentative  advances  to  calculation  or  that  com 
pound  of  nerves  and  imagination  which  so  many 
women  call  love.  She  had  given  him  her  heart,  and 
it  had  betrayed  her.  But  while  the  knowledge  gave 
him  an  unexpected  thrill,  he  ruthlessly  determined  to 
try  and  to  test  her  to  the  utmost. 

He  stood  up  and  walked. about  the  room  for  a  mo 
ment,  and  then  halted  directly  in  front  of  her. 

"  Do  you  know  anything?  "  he  asked  abruptly. 

"  About  what  ?     Do  you  think  I  suspect  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't     I  mean  Mrs.  Balfame." 

"  I  told  you  we  all  believe  she  did  it.  We  can't 
help  ourselves." 

"  I  don't  understand  the  attitude  of  any  of  you 
women  who  were  her  friends,  her  intimates.  You 
—  they,  rather  —  have  let  her  lead  this  community 
for  years,  believed  her  to  be  little  short  of  perfection. 
And  now  with  one  accord  they  accept  her  guilt  as  a 
matter  of  course." 

"  I  think  they  came  to  with  a  sort  of  shock  and 
realised  they  never  had  understood  her  at  all.  She 
had  them  hypnotised.  I  think  she's  one  of  those  Oc 
cidentals  with  terrible  latent  powers  for  whom  new 
laws  will  have  to  be  made  when  they  awake  to  con- 


MRS.    BALFAME 

sciousness  of  them  and  begin  to  develop  them  with 
the  power  and  skill  of  the  Orientals — " 

"  Beg  pardon,  but  let's  keep  to  the  present." 

"  jWell,  I  mean  it  rather  excites  them  to  be  able  to 
believe,  not  so  much  that  she  did  it,  as  that  she  was 
capable  of  it,  that  while  uniformly  sweet  and  serene, 
she  had  those  terrible  secreted  depths.  She  reminds 
one  of  Lucrezia  Borgia,  or  Catherine  de  Medici — " 

"  Why  poisoners  ?  You  don't  mean  to  say  they 
take  any  stock  in  that  story  of  the  poisoned  lemon 
ade?" 

And  before  Alys  could  collect  her  startled  faculties 
she  had  stammered:  "Oh,  of  course,  not.  They 
laugh  at  that.  Balfame  was  shot — :  what's  the  use  of 
—  the  water  in  the  vial  no  doubt  was  put  there  to  rinse 
it,  and  Dr.  Anna  absently  put  it  back  in  place.  I 
merely  mentioned  the  names  of  the  first  wicked 
women  that  occurred  to  me.  Somehow  Mrs.  Bal 
fame  suggests  that  historic  tribe  to  our  friends.  No 
doubt  this  crime  in  their  midst  has  irritated  what  little 
imagination  they  have." 

Her  chest  was  rising  under  quick  heartbeats,  stir 
ring  the  soft  nest  of  ribbon  and  lawn  under  the  lace 
of  her  gown,  a  part  of  the  picture  that  he  did  not  ap 
preciate  until  later;  at  the  moment  he  was  observing 
her  dilated  eyes,  the  strained  muscles  of  her  nostrils 
and  mouth.  He  found  himself  interested  in  feminine 
psychology  for  the  first  time  in  his  life;  and  as  he 
hated  a  liar  above  all  transgressors,  he  wondered  why 
he  inconsistently  delighted  in  not  being  able  to  com 
prehend  this  complex  little  creature,  and  at  the  same 
time  hoped,  his  own  breathing  almost  as  irregular  as 
hers,  that  she  would  continue  to  lie.  But  he  pushed 


MRS.     BALFAME  243 

on.  He  had  a  dim  sense  that  far  more  tremendous 
issues  were  at  stake  than  further  proof  of  his  client's 
guilt,  and  deep  in  his  soul  was  an  ache  to  feel  re 
assured  that  staggering  old  ideals  might  yet  be  rein 
forced  with  vitality. 

"  Have  you  told  Jim  Broderick  that  Dr.  Anna  ac 
cuses  Mrs.  Balfame?" 

"Of  course  not.  He  would  be  climbing  the  porch 
the  first  dark  night." 

"  Have  you  been  tempted  to  tell  him  ?  " 

She  shrank  farther  back  and  looked  up  at  him  un 
der  lowered  lids.  "  Tempted  ?  What  —  why  should 
I  ?  Well,  I  haven't  told  him,  or  any  one.  That  is  all 
that  matters." 

"  Exactly.  I  only  meant,  of  course,  that  I  have 
a  reprehensible  masculine  disbelief  in  the  ability  of  a 
woman  to  keep  a  secret.  I  might  have  known  you 
would  be  the  exception,  as  you  are  to  so  many  rules. 
And  I  mean  that.  But  Broderick  is  an  old  friend  of 
yours  and  preternaturally  keen  on  the  case." 

"Oh!" 

"  You  haven't  told  me  why  you  in  particular  be 
lieve  so  firmly  in  my  client's  guilt.  You  are  the  last 
person  to  be  influenced  by  either  the  ravings  of  a 
typhoid  patient  —  hallucinations,  generally  —  or  any 
of  the  sentimental  and  romantic  theories  of  these 
half-baked  women  that  spend  their  leisure  taking  on 
flesh,  playing  bridge,  and  running  over  to  New  York. 
If  you  believe  Mrs.  Balfame  is  guilty  you  must  have 
some  fairly  good  reason  —  perhaps  proof." 

She  could  not  guess  that  he  was  trying  her;  she 
imagined  his  insistence  due  to  apprehension,  a  desire 
to  know  the  worst.  The  hour  she  had  dreaded  and 


244  MRS.     BALFAME 

desired  had  come  —  and  she  had  almost  let  its  oppor 
tunities  escape!  These  last  weeks  in  New  York  filled 
with  work  and  novel  distraction  had  repoised  her,  un 
consciously.  She  had  begun  to  doubt,  some  time 
since,  if  she  would  be  able  to  violate  her  old  standards 
when  the  test  came;  but  not  for  a  moment  had  she 
ceased  with  all  the  concentrated  forces  of  her  being 
to  long  for  his  desertion  of  Mrs.  Balfame.  And  if 
she  had  rejoiced  sometimes  that  she  was  incapable  of 
a  demoralising  act,  she  had  at  others  been  equally  dis 
gusted  with  her  failure  in  inexorable  purpose.  She 
told  herself  that  the  big  brains  were  ruthless,  able  to 
hold  down  and  out  of  sight  one  side  of  the  charac 
ter  they  governed  while  giving  the  hidden  forces  for 
evil  full  play;  never  in  wantonness,  of  course,  but  in 
sternly  calculated  necessity.  She  had  a  suspicion  that 
this  was  just  the  form  of  greatness  Mrs.  Balfame  pos 
sessed,  and  it  increased  her  disesteem  of  self  and  in 
spired  her  with  a  second  form  of  jealousy. 

The  bitter  tides  were  welling  to  the  surface  once 
more.  She  asked  abruptly:  "Is  Sarah  Austin's 
theory  true?  Are  you  in  love  with  Mrs.  Balfame?" 

"  What  has  that  to  do  with  it?  " 

"  It  has  its  bearings." 

"  I  don't  think  I  should  be  expected  to  answer  that 
question.  I  can  say  this,  however :  that  as  long  as  she 
is  my  client  and  in  jail,  I  shall  have  no  time  to  think 
of  personal  matters  —  of  love,  above  all.  My  job  is 
to  get  her  off,  and  it  occupies  about  sixteen  hours  out 
of  the  twenty- four.  I  oughtn't  to  be  here,  but  re 
lief —  distraction  —  is  imperative,  now  and  again — " 

"  It  would  be  too  delightful  if  you  would  come  here 
when  you  wanted  both,"  Her  tones  were  polite  with- 


MRS.     BALFAME  245 

out  being  eager,  but  she  found  it  impossible  to  smile. 

"  Yes,  I  will;  but  I  shall  ignore  the  subject  we  are 
discussing  —  rest  doesn't  lie  precisely  that  way !  For 
that  reason  we'll  finish  up  now.  Why  do  you  believe 
Mrs.  Balfame  guilty?" 

"  If  I  could  prove  to  you  that  she  was,  would  you 
throw  over  the  case?  " 

He  hesitated  and  regarded  her  fixedly  for  a  moment 
through  narrowed  lids.  "  Yes,"  he  said  finally.  "  I 
would  get  one  of  the  men  whose  firm  I  expect  to  join 
the  first  of  the  year  to  take  the  case." 

She  sat  erect  once  more  and  twisted  her  hands  to 
gether,  but  tried  to  smile  impersonally  as  she  returned 
his  gaze.  "  Would  you  then  have  time  to  love  her  ?  " 

Again  he  hesitated,  although  he  was  beginning  to 
hate  himself;  he  felt  as  if  he  had  some  beautiful  wild 
thing  of  his  woods  in  a  trap,  but  an  imperious  inner 
necessity  urged  him  on.  "  Probably  not.  Now  will 
you  tell  me?  " 

"Now?" 

She  slipped  to  the  floor  and  confronted  him,  holding 
her  small  head  very  high.  No  doubt  the  upward 
movement  was  unconscious  in  its  expression,  but  he 
thought  her  very  lovely  and  proud  as  she  stood  there, 
and  for  the  first  time  he  took  note  of  the  subtlety  in 
that  delicate  mobile  face. 

"  I  really  know  nothing,"  she  said  lightly.  "  It  is 
just  this:  if  you  or  any  other  innocent  person  were 
in  danger,  I  should  feel  called  upon  to  unravel  certain 
clues.  Naturally  I  should  make  no  move  otherwise. 
Mrs.  Balfame  is  an  old  friend  of  ours  —  and  then  — 
well,  our  local  pride  may  be  absurd,  but  there  it  is. 
We  must  watch  Jim  Broderick.  He  has  discovered 


246  MRS.    BALFAME 

the  intimacy  between  Dr.  Anna  and  Mrs.  Balfame, 
and  also  —  what  all  know  here  —  that  they  were  alone 
together  during  those  last  morning  hours  following 
the  murder.  I'll  warn  my  aunt.  He  really  couldn't 
get  at  her  —  not  now,  at  all  events;  what  he  is  after, 
of  course,  is  not  so  much  corroboration,  but  a  new  and 
sensational  story  to  keep  the  case  going.  And,  of 
course,  as  it  was  the  press  that  ran  Mrs.  Balfame  to 
earth,  a  statement  from  a  woman  of  Dr.  Anna's  stand 
ing  justifying  it  would  be  an  immense  triumph." 

She  had  moved  over  to  a  table  against  the  farther 
wall,  and  she  struck  a  match  and  applied  it  to  the  wick 
of  an  alcohol  lamp.  "  I  am  going  to  make  you  a  cup 
of  tea.  It  will  rest  without  overstimulating  you,  and 
you  must  go  right  from  here  to  bed.  I'm  sorry 
Mother  doesn't  keep  whisky  in  the  house  — " 

"  I  don't  drink  when  I'm  on  a  case.  That's  one  ad 
vantage  I  generally  have  over  the  other  side.  It  will 
be  delightful  to  drink  tea  with  you  once  more,  although 
I'm  free  to  say  that  outside  of  this  house  I  never  drank 
a  cup  of  tea  in  my  life." 

The  atmosphere  was  as  agreeably  light  as  if  ponder 
able  clouds  had  suddenly  rolled  out  of  the  room.  Two 
young  people  drew  up  to  a  smaller  table  and  drank 
several  cups  of  tea  that  had  stood  three  minutes,  nib 
bled  excellent  biscuit,  and  talked  about  the  War. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THREE  days  before  the  date  set  for  the  opening 
of  the  trial,  Mrs.  Balfame  deferred  to  the  ad 
vice  of  her  counsel  and  friends  and  received  the 
women  reporters  —  not  only  the  four  depending  upon 
Miss  Crumley,  but  a  representative  of  every  Woman's 
Page  in  IsFew  York  and  Brooklyn. 

They  presented  themselves  in  a  body  at  three  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon  and  were  conducted  upstairs  by  the 
fluttered  Mrs.  Larks,  who  had  anticipated  them  with 
all  the  chairs  in  the  jail.  They  crowded  into  the  little 
sitting-room,  and  were  given  time  to  dispose  them 
selves  before  the  door  leading  into  the  bedroom  opened 
and  Mrs.  Balfame  entered. 

She  bowed  composedly  and,  with  a  slight  diffident 
smile,  walked  to  the  chair  reserved  for  her.  Her 
weeds  were  relieved  by  white  crepe  at  the  neck  and 
wrists,  but  to  two  of  the  newspaper  women  who  had  in 
terviewed  her  a  year  since  as  the  founder  of  the  Friday 
and  the  Country  clubs,  she  had  lost  her  haunting  air  of 
girlhood;  there  was  not  a  line  in  her  beautiful  skin 
nor  a  gleam  of  silver  in  her  abundant  brown  hair,  but 
she  had  suddenly  entered  upon  the  full  maturity  of  her 
years,  and  what  she  may  have  lost  in  charm  they  de 
cided  she  had  gained  in  subtle  force.  The  other 
women  agreed  that  she  looked  as  cold  and  chaste  as 
Diana,  quite  incapable  of  any  of  those  mortal  passions 
that  drive  fallible  Earthians  into  crime. 

It  was  an  ordeal,  and  she  drew  a  long  breath. 

247 


248  MRS.     BALFAME 

"  You  —  you  wish  to  interview  me  ?  " 

Miss  Sarah  Austin,  whose  brilliant  parts  were  gen 
erally  recognised  and  whose  creative  fervour  was  sus 
pected  by  few,  had  been  elected  to  the  office  of  spokes 
woman  and  replied  promptly: 

"  Indeed  we  do,  Mrs.  Balfame,  and  before  asking 
you  any  of  the  tiresome  questions  without  which  there 
could  be  no  interview,  we  should  be  glad  to  know  if 
you  read  the  woman's  pages  in  our  newspapers  and 
realise  that  we  are  all  friends  and  shout  our  belief  in 
your  innocence  from  the  housetops  ?  " 

"  Yes,  oh  yes/'  murmured  Mrs.  Balfame  stiffly,  but 
with  a  more  spontaneous  smile.  "  That  is  the  reason 
I  finally  consented  to  see  you.  I  do  not  like  being  in 
terviewed.  But  you  have  been  very  kind,  and  I  am 
grateful." 

There  was  a  deep  murmur,  and  after  Miss  Austin 
had  thanked  her  prettily  for  her  appreciation  of  their 
modest  efforts,  she  continued  in  a  brisk  and  business 
like  manner:  "Now,  Mrs.  Balfame,  what  we  should 
like  is  your  story.  We  have  been  warned  by  Mr.  Rush 
that  we  cannot  ask  you  whom  you  suspect,  much  less 
the  reasons  upon  which  you  found  your  suspicions  — 
ah!" 

Her  final  vocative  was  expressed  in  an  angry  gurgle. 
Rush  had  entered.  He  was  so  close  to  panic  at  the 
prospect  of  facing  a  roomful  of  women  unsupported 
by  a  single  male  that  his  face  was  almost  terrifying  in 
its  strength,  but  it  had  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that 
although  these  girls  had  agreed  to  write  their  inter 
views  at  the  Dobton  Inn  and  submit  them  to  his  cen 
sorship,  it  was  possible  one  or  more  would  slip  over 
to  New  York,  bent  upon  sheer  sensationalism. 


MRS.     BALFAME  249 

"  You  must  excuse  me,"  he  said  with  a  valiant  as 
sault  upon  the  lighter  mood,  "  but  my  client  is  in  the 
witness  box,  you  see,  and  must  be  protected  by  coun 
sel." 

Miss  Austin  swung  about  and  faced  him  with  a  faint 
satiric  smile.  "  Oh,  very  well,"  she  said.  "  You  may 
stay ;  but  I  for  one  shall  not  adjust  my  hat." 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  newspaper  women  are  sel 
dom,  if  ever,  of  the  masculine  type;  their  sheer  femi 
ninity,  indeed,  is  almost  as  invariable  as  their  air  of 
physical  weariness.  Not  one  of  the  little  company 
laughed  with  a  more  than  perfunctory  appreciation  of 
their  captain's  wit,  and  several  stared  at  Rush,  fasci 
nated  by  his  harsh  masculinity,  the  peculiar  atmosphere 
of  tense  -alertness  in  which  he  seemed  to  have  his  be 
ing,  the  magnetism  which  was  more  an  emanation  from 
an  almost  perpetual  concentration  of  his  mental  forces 
than  from  any  of  the  lighter  physical  attributes.  He 
folded  his  arms  and  leaned  against  the  door,  and  it  is 
only  fair  to  the  cause  of  woman  to  state  that  hardly  one 
of  these,  whose  ages  ranged  from  twenty  to  thirty-six, 
was  unwomanly  enough,  despite  the  fact  that  she 
earned  her  bread  in  daily  competition  with  man,  to 
give  Mrs.  Balfame  her  whole  attention  thereafter. 
While  keeping  their  business  heads,  they  uncovered  a 
corner  of  their  hearts  to  the  sun,  and  quickened,  how 
ever  faintly,  in  its  glow. 

"  Now,"  Miss  Austin  resumed,  "  we  will,  counsel 
permitting,  ask  you  to  give  us  your  story  of  that  night. 
As  you  have  been  misquoted  and  there  has  been  so 
much  speculative  stuff  published  about  you,  there  surely 
can  be  no  objection  to  that."  And  she  squared  her 
shoulders  upon  Mr.  Rush. 


250  MRS.     B  A  L  F  A  M  E 

Mrs.  Balfame  looked  at  her  counsel  with  a  gracious 
deference,  and  he  nodded. 

"  No  harm  in  that,"  he  said  curtly.  "  Tell  them 
practically  the  story  you  would  tell  if  you  took  the 
stand.  There's  only  one  story  to  tell,  and  it  is  as  well 
the  public  should  bear  it  in  mind  while  reading  the 
reports  of  the  witnesses  for  the  prosecution." 

"  That  means  he's  rehearsed  her,"  whispered  Miss 
Lauretta  Lea,  who  had  reported  many  trials,  to  Miss 
Tracy,  who  was  a  novice.  "  But  that's  all  right." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  I  should  begin  with  the  scene  at 
the  Club  —  that  is  to  say,  I  do  not  care  to  speak  of  it 
in  detail, —  quite  aside  from  a  natural  regard  for  good 
taste, —  but  it  seems  to  have  been  given  a  unique  im 
portance." 

"  Just  so,"  said  Miss  Austin  encouragingly.  "  Do 
let  us  have  your  version.  The  public  simply  longs  for 
it." 

"Well  —  I  should  tell  you  first  that,  although  my 
husband  was  sometimes  irritable,  he  really  was  a  good 
husband  and  we  never  had  any  vulgar  quarrels.  It 
was  only  when  he  was  not  quite  himself  that  he  some 
times  said  more  than  he  meant,  and  he  never  quite  for 
got  himself  as  he  did  that  day  out  at  the  Country  Club. 

"  I  was  playing  bridge  in  one  of  the  smaller  rooms 
when  I  heard  his  voice  pitched  in  a  very  excited  key.  I 
knew  that  something  unusual  had  occurred,  arid  went 
out  into  the  large  central  room  at  once.  There  I  saw 
him  at  the  upper  end  of  the  room  surrounded  by  sev 
eral  of  the  men,  who  were  apparently  trying  to  induce 
him  to  leave.  He  was  shouting  and  saying  such  ex 
traordinary  things  that  my  first  impression  was  that 
he  was  ill  or  had  lost  his  mind. 


MRS.     BALFAME  251 

"  I  reasoned  with  him,  and  as  it  did  no  good  and  as 
I  was  deeply  hurt  and  mortified,  I  left  him  to  the  men 
and  returned  to  the  bridge-room.  There,  in  spite  of 
the  kindness  of  my  friends,  I  found  I  was  too  over 
come  to  play,  and  Dr.  Anna  Steuer  offered  to  drive  me 
home.  That  is  all,  as  far  as  the  scene  at  the  club 
house  is  concerned,  except  that  I  cannot  sufficiently  em 
phasise  that  he  never  had  acted  in  a  similar  manner 
before.  If  he  had,  I  should  not  have  continued  to 
live  with  him  —  not  that  I  should  have  obtained  a  di 
vorce,  for  I  do  not  approve  of  the  institution;  but  I 
should  have  moved  out.  I  have  a  little  money  of  my 
own,  left  me  by  my  father." 

"  Ah  —  yes.  Thanks.  And  after  you  were  in  your 
own  house?  Do  you  mind?  Of  course,  we  have  read 
the  story  you  told  the  men,  but  we  should  like  our  own 
story.  Perhaps  you  may  have  thought  of  some  other 
points  since." 

"  Yes,  there  are  one  or  two.  I  had  entirely  forgot 
ten  in  the  agitation  of  that  time  that  I  went  below,  after 
packing  my  husband's  suitcase,  to  get  a  drink  of  fil 
tered  water  and  thought  I  heard  some  one  try  the 
kitchen  door.  I  also  thought  I  heard  some  one  up 
stairs,  and  called  the  name  of  my  maid.  Of  course, 
a  good  deal  will  be  made  of  this  omission,  but  con 
sidering  the  terrible  circumstances  and  the  fact  that  I 
never  had  been  interviewed  before,  I  do  not  find  it  in 
the  least  remarkable. 

"  But,  of  course,  you  want  me  to  begin  at  the  be 
ginning."  And  in  her  pleasant  shallow  voice,  she  told 
the  story  she  had  immediately  concocted  for  her  friends. 

As  Miss  Austin  asked  a  few  questions  in  the  en 
deavour  to  inject  some  essence  of  personality  into  the 


252  MRS.     BALFAME 

bald  story,  Rush  permitted  the  sensation  of  dismay 
with  which  he  had  listened  to  take  implacable  form. 
He  never  had  heard  a  less  convincing  story  on  the 
witness  stand.  Mrs.  Balfame  had  talked  glibly,  far  too 
glibly.  It  was  evident  to  the  least  initiated  that  she 
had  been  rehearsed.  Was  her  mind  really  as  colour 
less  as  her  voice?  Had  she  no  sense  of  drama?  He 
had  hoped  that  the  excitement  of  this  interview,  com 
ing  after  weeks  of  supreme  monotony,  would  kindle 
her  to  animation  and  a  natural  enrichment  of  vocabu 
lary;  and,  witnessing  its  effect  upon  these  friendly 
women,  she  would  be  encouraged  to  simulate  both  on 
the  witness-stand.  It  was  a  pity,  he  reflected  bitterly, 
that  a  woman  who  could  lie  to  her  counsel  with  such  a 
fine  front  of  innocence  could  not  "  put  over  "  the  large 
dramatic  lie  that  would  help  him  so  materially  in  his 
difficult  task. 

Miss  Austin,  despairing  of  colour,  made  a  shift  with 
psychology.  "  Would  you  mind  telling  us,  Mrs.  Bal 
fame,  if  you  feel  a  very  great  dread  of  the  trial?  We 
realise  that  it  must  loom  a  terrible  ordeal/' 

"  Oh,  of  course,  the  mere  thought  of  all  that  pub 
licity  horrifies  me  whenever  I  permit  myself  to  think 
of  it,  but  it  has  to  be,  and  that  is  the  end  of  it,  since 
the  real  culprit  will  not  come  forward.  But  I  feel 
confident  I  shall  not  break  down  under  the  strain.  I 
might  have  done  so  if  the  trial  had  followed  imme 
diately  upon  my  arrest,  but  all  these  weeks  in  jail  have 
prepared  me  for  anything." 

"  But  you  are  not  terrified  —  of  —  of  the  outcome? 
We  know  and  rejoice  that  the  chances  are  all  in  your 
favour,  but  men  are  so  queer." 

"  I  am  not  in  the  least  terrified.     It  is  impossible  to 


MRS.     BALFAME  253 

convict  an  innocent  woman  in  this  country;  and  then  " 

—  inclining  her  head  graciously  to  the  watchful  Rush, 
— "  I  have  the  first  criminal  lawyer  in  Brabant  County 
to  defend  me.     It  is  a  detestable  thought, —  to  be  stared 
at  in  the  courtroom  as  if  I  were  an  object  in  a  museum, 

—  but  I  shall  keep  thinking  that  in  a  few  days  at  most 
it  will  be  over  and  that  I  shall  then  return  to  the  private 
life  I  love." 

"  Yes.  And  would  you  mind  telling  us  something 
of  your  plans?  Shall  you  continue  to  live  in  Elsi- 
nore?" 

"  I  shall  go  far  away,  to  Europe,  if  possible.  I  sup 
pose  I  shall  return  in  time.  Of  course  "  (in  hasty 
afterthought)  "  I  should  not  be  contented  for  very  long 
without  my  friends;  they  have  grown  to  be  doubly 
valuable  —  and  valued  —  during  this  long  term  of  in 
carceration.  But  I  must  travel  for  a  while." 

"  That  is  quite  natural.  How  normal  you  are,  dear 
Mrs.  Balfame !  "  It  was  Miss  Lauretta  Lea  who  spoke 
up  with  enthusiasm.  "  You  are  just  a  sweet,  serene, 
normal  woman  who  couldn't  commit  a  violent  act  if 
you  tried.  Be  sure  the  public  shall  see  you  as  you  are. 
I  don't  wonder  your  friends  adore  you.  Don't  mind 
being  stared  at.  The  more  people  that  see  you,  the 
more  friends  you  will  have." 

Her  eyes  moved  to  Rush,  and  she  was  rewarded  by 
a  smile  that  expressed  relief.  She  was  a  very  experi 
enced  reporter  and  knew  exactly  how  he  felt. 

"  And  believe  me,"  she  said  as  they  trooped  down  the 
stairs,  having  passed  before  the  Balfame  throne  and  re 
ceived  a  limp  handshake  of  dismissal,  "  that  poor  man's 
worried  half  to  death.  He'll  get  about  as  much  help 
from  her  on  the  stand  as  he  would  from  a  tired  codfish. 


254  MRS.     BALFAME 

But  she  really  is  a  divinely  sweet  woman  and  lovely  to 
look  at,  and  so  I'll  sob  over  her  for  all  I'm  worth  and 
seclude  from  the  cynical  and  the  sentimental  that  she 
has  distilled  crystal  in  her  veins." 

"  Did  you  ever  know  such  a  perfectly  rotten  inter 
view  ! "  Miss  Austin  was  scowling  fiercely.  "  The 
men  did  a  thousand  times  better  because  they  took  her 
by  surprise,  but  even  they  cursed  her.  I  figure  out 
she  has  made  up  her  Friday  Club  mind  to  look  the  mar 
ble  goddess  minus  every  female  instinct,  including  a 
natural  desire  to  shoot  a  brute  of  a  husband.  But  I 
wish  she  had  brain  enough  to  put  it  over  with  some  pep. 
She  was  afraid  to  be  dramatic, —  or  couldn't  be, —  and 
so  she  was  trying  to  be  literary  — " 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you !  "  And  arguing  and  scold 
ing,  they  wended  their  disapproving  way  over  to  the 
Dobton  Inn  and  sat  them  down  at  tables  to  make  the 
most  of  their  bare  material. 

"  No  censorship  needed  here,"  growled  Miss  Austin. 
"  She  froze  my  very  imagination." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

RUSH  walked  up  and  down  the  room  for  a  few 
moments  in  silence.  Mrs.  Balfame  sat  back  and 
folded  her  hands.  She  was  haunted  by  a  vague  sense 
of  inefficiency,  of  having  not  quite  risen  to  the  oc 
casion,  but  she  felt  there  could  be  no  doubt  that  she  not 
only  had  impressed  the  reporters  as  an  innocent  woman 
but  as  a  perfect  lady.  The  rest  didn't  matter. 

"Are  you  really  not  a  bit  nervous?"  demanded 
Rush,  swinging  on  his  heel  and  confronting  her. 

"  I  will  not  permit  myself  to  be.  And  except  that  I 
hate  publicity,  I  really  do  not  dread  the  trial.  It  means 
the  beginning  of  the  end  of  this  detestable  prison  life. 
I  want  to  be  out  and  free.  A  week  in  a  courtroom 
is  not  too  heavy  a  price  to  pay." 

"  Have  you  ever  been  to  a  murder  trial  ?  " 

"Of  course  not.  Such  a  thing  would  never  have 
occurred  to  me." 

Rush  sighed.  She  had  no  imagination.  But  as  her 
counsel  he  reminded  himself  that  he  should  be  grateful 
for  the  lack;  he  wanted  no  scenes,  either  in  the  court 
room  or  here  in  the  imminent  hours.  But  he  would 
have  welcomed  a  little  more  feminine  shrinking,  appeal 
to  his  superior  strength.  Even  when  he  had  wor 
shipped  her  from  afar,  she  had  never  moved  him  so 
powerfully  as  on  the  day  'of  her  arrest  when  she  had 
flung  herself  over  the  table  in  an  abandonment  to 
despair  as  complete  as  the  most  exacting  male  could 
wish.  That  incident  had  long  since  taken  on  the  shift- 

255 


256  MRS.     BALFAME 

ing  outlines  of  a  dream.  If  she  had  felt  any  tremors 
since  then  she  had  concealed  them  from  him. 

"  Tell  me,"  he  asked  almost  wistfully,  "  are  you  not 
terribly  frightened  at  times?  You  are  alone  here  so 
much.  And  it  has  been  an  experience  to  try  even  a 
strong  man's  nerves." 

"  Women  nowadays  really  have  better  nerves  than 
men.  We  not  only  lead  a  far  fuller  and  more  varied 
life  than  our  predecessors,  but  you  men  work  at  such  a 
terrific  strain  that  it  is  a  wonder  you  retain  any  con 
trol  of  your  nerves  at  all.  I  will  admit  that  I  did  have 
attacks  of  fear  at  first.  It  was  all  so  strange  and  odd. 
But  I  got  over  them.  You  can  get  used  to  anything,  I 
guess.  And  I  have  a  strong  will.  I  just  made  my 
self  think  about  something  else.  This  war  has  been  a 
godsend.  Have  you  noticed  my  new  maps?  I've 
really  read  about  twenty  war  books,  besides  all  the  edi 
torials,  and  they  have  given  me  a  distaste  for  lighter 
reading,  and  really  developed  my  —  my  —  intellect. 
That  seems  such  a  big  word.  And  then  I've  knitted 
dozens  of  things  for  the  children  and  soldiers,  and  felt 
as  if  I  were  of  some  use  for  the  first  time  in  my  life." 

She  glanced  at  him  shyly,  as  he  stared  through  the 
bars  of  one  of  the  windows.  The  suppressions  of  a 
lifetime  made  it  impossible  to  betray  any  depth  of  feel 
ing  save  under  terrible  stress.  She  was  ashamed  of  her 
breakdown  before  him  on  the  day  of  her  arrest,  but  she 
was  conscious  of  the  wish  that  she  were  able  to  infuse 
her  cool  even  tones  with  warmth,  to  make  them  tremu 
lous  at  the  right  moment;  but  if  she  attempted  to  be 
tray  something  of  her  newer  self  even  in  her  eyes,  self- 
consciousness  overcame  her  and  she  dropped  the  lids 
almost  in  a  panic. 


MRS.     BALFAME  257 

She  wondered  if  love  broke  down  those  cliffs  of  ice 
that  seemed  to  encompass  a  new-born  soul.  Or  was  it 
merely  that  the  other  members  of  her  personal  com 
pany,  mature,  jealous,  self-sufficient,  resented  the  in 
trusion  of  this  shrinking  alien?  They  had  got  on 
quite  well  without  it ;  they  felt  no  yearning  for  possible 
complications,  readjustments.  With  all  their  quiet 
force  they  discouraged  the  stranger.  Before  any  of 
the  supreme  experiences,  including  love,  they  might  be 
routed,  the  new  force  might  spring  up  in  an  instant  like 
a  flower  from  the  magic  soils  of  India  —  but  not  while 
the  conventions  bulwarked  them.  Their  sum  was  Mrs. 
Balfame  of  Elsinore,  and  not  for  a  moment  did  they 
permit  themselves  to  forget  it. 

Moreover,  it  was  quite  true  that  she  had  conquered 
her  first  apprehensions  and  welcomed  the  trial  as  the 
initial  step  toward  freedom.  Her  poise  had  always 
been  remarkable,  the  result  in  part  of  a  self-centred 
life  and  a  will  driven  relentlessly  in  a  narrow  groove. 
More  than  ever  was  she  determined  to  sit  through 
those  long  days  in  the  courtroom  with  the  cold  aloof 
ness  of  the  unfortunate  women  of  history.  The  very 
ascents  she  had  made  of  secret  and  solitary  heights 
alone  would  have  restored  her  poise,  for  she  felt  on  far 
more  friendly  terms  with  herself  than  when  living  with 
a  wretch  she  loathed,  and  dreaming  of  no  higher  alti 
tudes  then  complete  success  in  Elsinore.  But  she 
wished  for  the  first  time  that  she  were  a  younger 
woman,  or  had  made  those  ascents  many  years  ago; 
she  would  have  liked  to  reveal  herself  spontaneously  to 
this  interesting  young  man  who  was  so  deeply  in  love 
with  her. 

Suddenly  she  wondered  if  he  were  as  ardently  in 


258  MRS.     BALFAME 

love  with  her  as  in  that  brief  period  when  they  had 
talked  of  themselves.  Not  loving  him  in  return,  she 
had  been  content  with  lip-service,  the  sure  knowledge 
that  all  his  fine  abilities  were  at  work  upon  the  ob 
stacles  to  her  freedom ;  and  she  would  have  been  deeply 
annoyed  if  he  had  broken  the  pact  made  on  the  day  of 
her  arrest  and  reiterated  his  devotion  and  his  hopes. 

But  significant  happenings  —  omissions  —  a  certain 
flatness.  .  .  .  She  turned  her  head  sharply  and  looked 
at  him.  He  was  still  staring  moodily  through  the  bars. 

If  far  too  diffident  to  show  the  best  that  was  in  her, 
she  found  it  comparatively  simple  to  practice  the  fem 
inine  art  of  angling,  albeit  with  a  somewhat  heavy 
hand. 

She  asked  softly :  "  Don't  you  think  I  did  the  wise 
thing  to  tell  them  I  intended  to  travel  as  soon  as  I  was 
acquitted?  It  surely  would  be  in  better  taste  than  to 
settle  down  here  —  in  that  house !  " 

"  Did  you  mean  it  ?  The  intention  would  make  a 
good  impression  on  the  public,  certainly." 

"  Why,  of  course  I  meant  it.  I  am  not  a  good  hand 
at  saying  things  merely  for  effect." 

"  Where  shall  you  go  ?  Europe  is  rather  impos 
sible." 

"  Oh,  not  altogether.  There  is  always  Italy.  And 
there  is  no  danger  from  Zeppelins  in  the  interior  of 
Great  Britain.  And  there  is  Spain  — " 

"  I  think  Europe  a  very  good  place  for  women  to 
keep  away  from  until  the  war  is  over.  Any  of  the 
nations  may  become  involved  at  any  minute  —  our 
selves,  for  that  matter.  Better  follow  the  advice  of 
advertisers  and  see  America  first." 

"  Yes,  I  could  visit  the  Expositions  in  California, 


MRS.     BALFAME  259 

and  camp  for  a  while  in  Glacier  Park,  and  there  are  the 
Yellowstone  and  Grand  Canon  —  but  all  that  would 
only  consume  a  few  months  —  and  then  there  is  this 
winter  to  think  of.  What  I  feel  I  should  do  is  to  stay 
away  for  a  year,  at  least — " 

"  You  could  live  very  pleasantly  in  Southern  Cali 
fornia." 

"  I  should  be  very  conspicuous  in  those  small  fash 
ionable  settlements.  The  case  has  been  telegraphed  all 
over  the  country,  and  I  have  seen  dreadful  pictures  of 
myself  in  several  Western  papers." 

"  Well,  you  might  live  quietly  in  New  York  until 
the  war  is  over.  There  is  no  better  place  to  hide  —  if 
you  avoid  the  restaurants  and  theatres.  And  after 
all,  even  a  cause  cdlebre  is  quickly  forgotten  if  there  is 
no  aftermath.  But  I  certainly  advise  against  even  sail 
ing  for  Europe  until  peace  is  declared.  There  is  al 
ways  the  danger  of  mines  and  too  enthusiastic  sub 
marines." 

She  turned  quite  cold  and  stared  at  her  hands.  They 
were  well-shaped  but  large,  and  they  looked  like  blocks 
of  white  marble  on  her  black  gown.  He  was  still  at 
the  window,  and  his  tone  was  listless.  She  had  a  curi 
ous  sense  of  panic  in  the  region  of  her  heart.  But 
instantly  she  curled  her  lip  with  defiant  scorn.  Was 
she  the  woman  to  fancy  herself  in  love  with  a  man  the 
moment  she  seemed  to  be  in  danger  of  losing  him? 
Besides,  no  doubt,  the  poor  man  was  tired,  and  too 
absorbed  in  the  case  to  have  any  room  in  him  for  the 
moods  of  the  lover.  Only  a  foolish  impulsive  woman 
would  in  conditions  like  the  present  try  to  rouse  a  dor 
mant  passion.  When  she  was  free,  and  he  as  well,  his 
heart  would  automatically  take  precedence  once  more 


260  MRS.     B  A  L  F  A  M  E 

and  he  would  plead  ardently  for  the  privilege  of  marry 
ing  her.  That  was  quite  in  order. 

She  rose  briskly.  "  Let  me  show  you  this  map,," 
she  said.  "  It  is  the  very  latest  —  Letitia  Battle 
brought  it  to  me  two  days  ago.  And  do  smoke." 

"  Thanks,  but  I  must  go  over  and  watch  those  girls. 
Yes,  it  is  a  fine  map.  This  war  certainly  is  a  godsend ! 
Good  luck.  Keep  up  those  splendid  spirits.  You're 
all  right." 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

OYEZ,  oyez,  oyez!  The  Supreme  Court  of  the 
State  of  New  York  County  of  Brabant  trial 
term  is  now  in  session  all  people  having  business  with 
this  court  may  draw  near  and  give  their  attention  and 
they  shall  be  heard." 

The  court  crier  delivered  his  morning  oration  in  one 
breathless  sentence,  the  last  five  words  of  which  only 
have  ever  been  captured  by  mortal  ears.  The  roll 
of  the  jury  was  called.  The  first  witness  stood  on  the 
step  of  the  witness-stand  and  swore  by  the  everlasting 
God  that  the  testimony  he  would  give  in  the  trial  of 
the  People  of  the  State  of  New  York  against  the  de 
fendant  would  be  the  truth,  the  whole  truth  and  noth 
ing  but  the  truth,  and  then  he  seated  himself  in  the 
chair.  The  trial  of  Mrs.  Balfame  began. 

It  had  taken  three  days  to  select  a  jury.  If  Rush 
was  determined  to  keep  out  Germans,  Mr.  Gore,  the 
district  attorney,  was  equally  reluctant  to  admit  to  the 
box  any  man  whom  he  suspected  of  being  under  com 
mands  from  his  wife  to  get  on  that  jury  and  acquit 
Mrs.  Balfame,  if  he  had  to  imperil  his  immortal  soul. 
He  also  harboured  suspicions  of  felonious  activities  on 
the  part  of  Mr.  Sam  Cummack  and  certain  other  patri 
otic  citizens  less  devoted  to  the  cause  of  justice  than 
to  Elsinore.  In  consequence  the  questions  were  not 
only  uncommonly  searching,  but  both  the  district  at- 

261 


262  MRS.     BALFAME 

torney  and  the  defendant's  counsel  exhausted  their 
peremptory  challenges. 

The  talesmen  that  had  crowded  the  courtroom  be 
yond  the  railing  were  for  the  most  part  farmers  and 
tradesmen,  but  there  were  not  a  few  "  prominent  resi 
dents,"  including  rooted  Brabantites  and  busy  com 
muters.  The  last  answered  without  hesitation  that 
they  had  followed  the  case  closely  from  the  first  and 
formed  an  unalterable  opinion ;  then,  dismissed,  rushed 
off  and  caught  a  late  train  for  New  York.  Those  of 
Mrs.  Bal fame's  own  class  would  have  been  passed 
cheerfully  by  Mr.  Rush,  but  in  spite  of  their  careless 
avowals  that  they  had  been  too  busy  to  follow  the  case, 
or  had  found  it  impossible  to  reach  any  conclusion,  they 
were  peremptorily  challenged  by  the  district  attorney. 
They,  too,  went  to  New  York,  not  on  business,  and  re 
turned  to  their  hearthstones  as  late  as  possible. 

Finally  a  jury  of  almost  excessively  "  plain  men  " 
were  chosen  after  long  and  weary  hours  of  wrangling. 
They  were  all  married;  their  ages  ranged  from  forty- 
five  to  fifty;  not  one  looked  as  if  he  had  an  illusion  left 
in  regard  to  the  sex  that  had  shared  his  burdens  for  a 
quarter  of  a  century,  or,  German  or  no  German,  he 
had  any  leniency  in  him  for  a  woman  who  had  pre 
sumed  to  abbreviate  the  career  of  a  man.  But  at  least 
they  were  real  Americans,  with  reputations  for  straight 
dealing,  and  good  old-fashioned  ideals  of  justice,  irre 
spective  of  sex.  Rush  doubted  if  any  of  them  could 
be  "  fixed  "  by  Mr.  Cummack  or  the  able  politicians 
whose  services  he  had  bespoken,  although  the  sternest 
visages  often  hid  unsuspected  weak  spots;  but  after  all 
his  best  chance  was  with  honest  men  whose  soft  spots 
were  of  another  sort. 


MRS.     BALFAME  263 

So  na'ive  had  been  the  eagerness  of  the  German- 
American  talesmen  to  get  on  the  jury  that  Rush  had 
had  little  difficulty  in  demonstrating  their  unfitness  for 
duty.  These  were  too  thrifty  to  go  to  New  York  and 
stood  in  no  fear  of  their  wives,  but  they  avoided  the 
gemiltlich  resort  of  Old  Dutch  until  the  trial  was  over. 

Throughout  this  ordeal  Mrs.  Balfame  sat  immov 
able,  impassive,  her  face  a  white  bas-relief  against  the 
heavy  black  crepe  of  her  veil,  which  hung  like  a  black 
panel  between  her  profile  and  the  western  light.  Her 
chair  was  at  the  foot  of  the  long  table  which  stood 
beneath  the  two  tiers  of  the  jury-box  and  was  reserved 
for  counsel,  the  district  attorney,  the  assistants  and 
clerks.  Her  calm  grey  eyes  looked  straight  ahead,  in 
terested  apparently  in  nothing  but  the  empty  witness- 
stand,  on  the  right  of  the  jury  and  the  left  of  the 
judge.  She  knew  that  the  reporters,  and  the  few  out 
siders  that  had  managed  to  crowd  in  with  the  talesmen, 
scarcely  took  their  eyes  from  her  face,  and  that  the 
staff  artists  were  sketching  her.  All  her  complacency 
had  fled  before  certain  phases  of  this  preliminary  or 
deal  for  which  no  one  had  thought  to  prepare  her. 
The  constant  reiteration  of  that  question  of  horrid 
significance :  "  Have  you  any  objection  to  capital  pun 
ishment  as  practised  in  this  State  ?  "  struck  at  the  roots 
of  her  courage,  enhanced  her  prison  pallor;  and  that 
immovable  battery  of  eyes,  hostile,  or  coldly  observant, 
critical,  appraising,  made  her  long  to  grind  her  teeth, 
to  rise  in  her  chair  and  tell  those  men  and  women,  in 
solent  in  their  freedom,  what  she  thought  of  their  vul 
gar  insensibility.  But  not  for  nothing  had  she  schooled 
herself,  and  not  for  a  moment  did  her  nerves  really 
threaten  revolt.  She  had  taken  her  second  sleeping 


264  MRS.     BALFAME 

powder  on  the  night  preceding  the  opening  of  the  trial, 
but  on  the  third  morning  she  awakened  with  the  mo 
mentary  wish  that  she  had  preserved  Dr.  Anna's  poison, 
or  could  summon  death  in  any  form  rather  than  go 
over  to  that  courthouse  and  be  tried  for  her  life.  For 
the  first  time  she  understood  the  full  significance  of  her 
condition. 

But  Mrs.  Battle,  Mrs.  Cummack  and  Mrs.  Gifning, 
when  they  bustled  in  to  "  buck  her  up,"  congratulated 
her  upon  "  not  having  a  nerve  in  her  body  " ;  and  al 
though  she  had  felt  she  must  surely  faint  at  the  end  of 
the  underground  tunnel  between  the  jail  and  the  rear 
of  the  courthouse,  she  had  walked  into  that  room  of 
dread  import  upstairs  with  her  head  erect,  her  eyes 
level,  and  her  hands  steady.  She  may  have  built  a 
fool's  paradise  for  herself,  assisted  by  her  well-mean 
ing  friends,  during  the  past  ten  weeks,  and  dwelt  in  it 
smugly;  but  as  it  fell  about  her  ears  she  stood  erect 
with  a  real  courage  that  strengthened  her  soul  for  any 
further  shocks  and  surprises  this  terrible  immediate 
future  of  hers  might  hold. 

On  the  first  day,  although  she  never  glanced  at  a 
talesman,  she  had  listened  eagerly  to  every  question, 
every  answer,  every  challenge.  As  the  third  day  wore 
on,  she  felt  only  weariness  of  mind,  and  gratitude  that 
she  had  a  strong  back.  She  was  determined  to  sit 
erect  and  immobile  if  the  trial  lasted  a  month.  And 
not  only  was  her  personal  pride  involved.  Circum 
stances  had  delivered  her  to  the  public  eye,  therefore 
should  it  receive  an  indelible  impression  of  a  worthy 
representative  of  the  middle-class  American  of  the 
smaller  town,  so  little  unlike  the  women  of  the 
wealthier  class,  and  capable  of  gracing  any  position  to 


MRS.     BALFAME  265 

which  fate  might  call  her  —  a  type  the  United  States 
of  America  alone  has  bred;  also  of  a  woman  whose 
courage  and  dignity  had  never  been  surpassed  by  any 
man  brought  to  the  bar  of  justice  on  the  awful  charge 
of  murder. 

She  knew  that  this  attitude,  as  well  as  her  statuesque 
appearance,  would  antagonise  the  men  reporters  but 
enchant  her  loyal  friends,  the  women.  Her  estimate 
was  very  shrewd.  The  poor  sob  sisters,  squeezed  in 
wherever  they  could  find  a  vacant  chair,  or  even  a  half 
of  one  (all  the  tables  being  reserved  for  the  men), 
surrendered  in  a  body  to  her  cold  beauty,  her  superb  in 
difference,  soul  and  pen.  A  unanimous  verdict  of 
guilty  brought  in  by  that  gum-chewing  small-headed 
jury  merely  would  petrify  these  women's  belief  in  her 
innocence.  She  was  vicarious  romance;  for  women 
that  write  too  much  have  little  time  to  live  and  no  im 
pulse  to  murder  any  one  in  the  world  but  the  city 
editor. 

On  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day,  the  space  be 
tween  the  enclosure  and  the  walls  of  the  courtroom 
was  filled  with  spectators  from  all  over  the  county, 
many  of  them  personal  friends  of  Mrs.  Balfame;  but 
New  York  City  would  not  become  vitally  interested 
until  the  business  of  examining  the  minor  witnesses 
was  concluded.  Behind  and  at  the  left  of  Mrs.  Bal 
fame  were  the  members  of  her  intimate  circle.  Occa 
sionally  they  whispered  to  her,  and  she  smiled  so 
sweetly  and  with  such  serene  composure  that  even  the 
men  reporters  admitted  she  looked  younger  and  more 
feminine  —  and  more  handsome  —  than  on  that  day 
of  the  interview  which  had  proved  her  undoing. 

"  But  she  did  it  all  right,"  they  assured  one  another. 


266  MRS.     BALFAME 

They  must  believe  in  her  guilt  or  suffer  twinges  in  that 
highly  civilised  and  possibly  artificial  section  of  the 
brain  tabulated  as  conscience.  Their  fixed  theory  was 
that  she  had  mixed  the  poison  for  Balfame  and  then, 
being  in  a  highly  nervous  state,  and  apprehensive  that 
he  would  capriciously  refuse  to  drink  it,  had  snatched 
her  pistol  as  she  heard  his  voice  in  the  distance,  dashed 
downstairs  and  out  into  the  grove,  and  fired  with  her 
established  accuracy. 

She  had  had  plenty  of  time  between  the  crime  and 
her  arrest  to  pass  the  pistol  to  one  of  her  friends,  or 
even  to  slip  out  at  night  and  drop  it  in  the  marsh. 

As  to  the  shot  that  had  missed  Balfame  and  entered 
the  tree:  it  was  either  by  one  of  those  coincidences 
more  frequent  in  fact  than  in  fiction  that  another 
enemy  of  Bal fame's  had  been  lurking  in  the  grove, 
intent  upon  murder ;  or  the  bullet  hole  was  older  than 
they  had  inferred.  The  idea  of  a  lover  they  scoffed 
at  openly.  And  it  was  one  of  the  established  facts,  as 
they  reminded  their  sisters  of  the  press,  that  the  worst 
women  in  history  had  looked  like  angels,  statues  or 
babies;  they  had  also  possessed  powerful  sex  magnet 
ism,  and  this  the  handsome  defendant  wholly  lacked. 

The  theory  of  the  women  reporters  was  far  simpler. 
She  hadn't  done  it  and  that  was  the  end  of  it. 

The  judge,  a  tall  imposing  man  with  inherited 
features  and  accumulated  flesh,  very  stately  and  re 
mote  in  his  flowing  silk  gown,  looked  unspeakably 
bored  for  three  days,  but  was  visibly  hopeful  as  he 
swept  up  to  his  seat  on  the  rostrum  on  Thursday  morn 
ing.  As  the  justice  for  Brabant,  Mr.  Bascom,  had  not 
been  on  speaking  terms  with  the  deceased,  and  as  his 
wife  was  one  of  the  defendant's  closest  friends,  an 


MRS.     BALFAME  267 

eminent  Supreme  Court  justice  from  one  of  the  large 
neighbouring  cities  had  been  assigned  to  the  case. 

The  reporters  of  the  evening  newspapers  were  packed 
closely  about  a  long  table  parallel  with  the  one  just 
below  the  jury-box,  and  behind  were  four  or  five 
smaller  tables  dedicated  to  the  morning  stars.  A  large 
number  of  favoured  spectators  had  found  seats  with 
in  the  railings,  but  a  passage  was  kept  open  for  the 
boys  who  came  up  at  regular  intervals  to  get  copy 
from  the  "  evening  table  "  for  the  telegraph  operator 
below  stairs. 

Broderick's  seat  beneath  the  rostrum  commanded 
both  the  witness-box  and  Mrs.  Balfame.  He  had  used 
his  influence  to  have  Alys  Crumley  assigned  to  the 
position  of  artist  for  the  Woman's  Page  of  the  News, 
and  she  and  Sarah  Austin  shared  a  chair. 

The  trial  began.  Dr.  Lequer  established  the  fact  of 
the  death,  described  the  course  of  the  bullet,  demon 
strating  that  it  had  been  fired  by  some  one  concealed 
in  the  grove.  A  surveyor  followed  and  exhibited  to 
the  jury  a  map  of  the  house  and  grounds.  Three  of 
the  younger  members  of  the  Country  Club,  Mr.  John 
Bradshaw  Battle,  cashier  of  the  Elsinore  Bank;  Mr. 
Lemuel  Cummack,  son  of  Elsinore's  esteemed  citizen, 
Mr.  Sam  Cummack ;  and  Mr.  Leonard  Corfine,  a  com 
muter,  had  been  subpoenaed  after  a  matching  of  wits. 
Overawed  by  the  solemnity  of  the  oath,  they  gave  a 
circumstantial  account  of  the  quarrel  which  had  pre 
ceded  the  murder  but  a  few  hours  —  all,  in  spite  of 
constant  interidptions  from  the  defendant's  counsel, 
conveying  the  impression,  however  unwillingly,  that 
Mrs.  Balfame  had  been  livid  with  wrath  and  the  man 
who  had  been  her  husband  insufferable.  It  was  a 


268  MRS.     BALFAME 

master-stroke  of  the  district  attorney  to  open  his  case 
with  the  damaging  testimony  of  two  members  of  the 
loyal  Elsinore  families.  As  for  Mr.  Corfine,  although 
born  and  brought  up  without  the  pale,  he  had  been 
graciously  received  upon  electing  to  build  his  nest  in 
Elsinore  and  his  young  wife  was  one  of  Mrs.  Balfame's 
meekest  admirers. 

Mr.  Broderick  muttered,  "H'm!  H'm!"  and  Mr. 
Bruce  squirmed  round  from  the  "  evening  table  "  and 
jerked  his  eyebrows  at  his  senior.  "  Bad !  Bad !  " 
muttered  Mr.  Broderick's  neighbour.  "  But  watch  her 
nerve.  Can  you  beat  it?  She  hasn't  batted  an  eye 
lash." 

Two  former  servants  that  had  preceded  Frieda  in 
the  Balfame  menage  testified  that  the  household  con 
sisted  of  three  people  only,  the  master  and  mistress  and 
the  one  in  help.  A  gardener  came  three  times  a  week 
in  the  morning.  No,  none  of  the  old  spare  rooms  was 
now  furnished,  and  the  Bal fames  never  had  had  visitors 
overnight. 

The  prosecution  rested,  and  Mr.  Rush  approached 
the  bar  according  to  usage  and  asked  that  the  case  be 
dismissed.  The  judge  ruled  that  it  should  proceed; 
and  immediately  after  the  noon  recess  the  first  witness 
for  the  defence  was  called.  This  was  Mr.  Cummack, 
and  he  testified  vigorously  to  the  harmonious  relations 
of  the  deceased  and  his  amiable  wife;  that  Mrs.  Bal 
fame  —  who  was  always  pale  —  had  treated  the  epi 
sode  out  at  the  Club  in  the  casual  manner  observed  by 
all  seasoned  and  intelligent  wives,  the  conversation  over 
the  telephone  in  his  house  proving  that  the  domestic 
heavens  were  swept  clean  of  storm-clouds;  and  that  the 


MRS.     BALFAME  269 

deceased  had  departed  for  his  home  quite  happy  and 
singing  at  the  top  of  his  lungs.  He  had  often  re 
marked  jocularly  (his  was  a  cheery  and  jocular  tem 
perament)  that  he  expected  to  die  with  his  boots  on, 
especially  since  he  had  taken  to  bawling  Tipperary  in 
the  face  of  American  Germany. 

It  is  not  to  be  imagined  that  Mr.  Cummack  was  able 
to  deliver  himself  of  this  valuable  testimony  without 
frequent  and  indignant  interruptions  from  the  district 
attorney,  whose  "  irrelevant,  incompetent  and  imma 
terial  "  rang  through  the  courtroom  like  the  chorus  of 
a  Gilbert  and  Sullivan  opera.  Mr.  Gore,  a  wasp  of  a 
man  with  snapping  black  eyes  and  a  rasping  voice 
emitted  through  his  higher  nasal  passages,  succeeded 
in  having  much  of  this  testimony  stricken  out,  but  not 
before  the  wily  Mr.  Rush,  who  stood  on  tiptoe,  as  alert 
and  nervous  as  a  race  horse  at  the  grandstand,  had  by 
his  adroit  swift  questions  fairly  flung  it  into  the  jury- 
box.  It  was  of  the  utmost  importance  with  an  obsti 
nate  provincial  jury  to  establish  at  once  a  favourable 
general  impression  of  the  prisoner. 

When,  in  the  theatre,  a  trial  scene  is  depicted,  it  is 
necessary  to  interpose  dramatic  episodes,  but  no  one 
misses  these  adventitious  incidents  in  a  real  trial  for 
murder,  so  dramatic  is  the  bare  fact  that  a  human  being 
is  battling  for  his  life.  When  the  prisoner  at  the  bar 
is  a  woman  reasonably  young  and  good  looking,  the  in 
terest  is  so  intense  and  complete  that  the  sudden  intru 
sion  of  one  of  the  incidents  which  have  become  the 
staples  of  the  theatre,  such  as  the  real  culprit  rushing 
into  the  courtroom  and  confessing  himself,  a  suicide 
in  the  witness-box,  or  dramatic  conduct  on  the  part  of 


270  MRS.     BALFAME 

the  defendant,  would  be  resented  by  the  spectators,  as 
an  anti-climax.  Real  drama  is  too  logical  and  grimly 
progressive  to  tolerate  the  extrinsic. 

The  three  other  men  who  had  been  at  Mr.  Cummack's 
house  that  night  were  called,  and  corroborated  his  story. 
They  all  wore  an  expression  of  gentle  amusement  as  if 
the  bare  idea  of  the  stately  and  elegant  Mrs.  Balfame 
descending  to  play  even  a  passive  role  in  a  domestic  row 
was  as  unthinkable  as  that  any  woman  could  find  aught 
in  David  Balfame  to  rouse  her  to  ire. 

"  By  Jove !  "  whispered  Mr.  Broderick  to  Mr.  Wag- 
staff  of  the  Morning  Flag,  "  just  figure  to  yourself 
what  the  line  would  be  if  she  had  been  caught  red- 
handed  and  was  putting  up  a  defence  of  temporary  in 
sanity  caused  by  the  well-known  proclivities  of  that 
beast.  A  good  subject  for  a  cartoon  would  be  Dave 
Balfame  in  heaven  with  a  tin  halo  on,  whitewashing 
Mrs.  B.,  weeds  and  all.  The  human  mind  is  nothing 
but  a  sewer." 

The  afternoon  session  was  also  enlivened  by  the  testi 
mony  of  several  of  the  ladies  who  had  been  members 
of  the  bridge  party  on  the  day  of  Mr.  Bal fame's  un 
seemly  conduct  at  the  Club.  They  testified  that  al 
though  Mrs.  Balfame  naturally  dissolved  upon  her  re 
turn  to  the  card-room,  there  had  been  nothing  whatever 
in  her  demeanour  to  suggest  seething  passion.  Mrs. 
Battle,  who  was  an  imposing  figure  in  the  witness  chair, 
her  greater  bulk  being  above  the  waist,  tossed  her  head 
and  asseverated  with  refined  emphasis  that  Mrs.  Bal 
fame  was  one  of  those  rare  and  exquisite  beings  that 
are  temperamentally  incapable  of  passion  of  any  sort. 
Her  immediate  return  to  her  home  was  prompted  more 
by  delicacy  than  even  by  pain.  Miss  Crumley's  pencil 


MRS.     BALFAME  271 

faltered  as  she  listened.  She  could  not  give  a  jeering 
public  even  a  faithful  outline  of  a  woman  as  devoted 
to  the  sacred  cause  of  friendship  and  Elsinore  as  Mrs. 
Battle. 

The  testimony  of  none  of  these  ladies  was  more  em 
phatic  than  that  of  Mrs.  Bascom,  wife  of  the  supplanted 
justice,  and  she  added  unexpectedly  that  she  had  been 
so  upset  herself  that  she  too  had  left  the  clubhouse 
immediately,  and,  her  swift  car  passing  Dr.  Anna 
Steuer's  little  runabout,  she  had  seen  Mrs.  Balfame 
chatting  pleasantly  and  without  a  trace  of  recent  emo 
tion. 

Mrs.  Balfame  almost  relaxed  the  set  curves  of  her 
mouth  at  this  surprising  statement.  She  recalled  that 
a  car  had  passed  and  that  she  had  wondered  at  the  time 
if  any  one  had  noticed  her  extreme  agitation.  She 
kept  her  muscles  in  order,  but  unconsciously  her  eyes 
followed  Mrs.  Bascom,  as  she  left  the  witness-chair, 
with  an  expression  of  puzzled  gratitude. 

The  District  Attorney  turned  to  the  reporters  with  a 
short  sardonic  laugh,  and  Mr.  Broderick  shook  his  head 
as  he  murmured  to  Mr.  Wagstaff: 

"  Can  you  beat  that  ?  And  yet  they  say  women  don't 
stand  by  one  another." 

"  Good  for  the  whole  game,  I  guess,"  replied  the 
young  Flag  star,  who  was  enamoured  of  a  very  pretty 
suffragette. 

The  Judge  rose,  and  the  afternoon  session  was  over. 
The  great  case  of  The  People  vs.  Mrs.  Balfame  rested 
until  the  following  morning. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

MRS.  BALFAME  walked  back  through  the  now 
familiar  tunnel  more  hopeful  and  elated  than 
any  one  in  the  courtroom  would  have  inferred  from 
her  chiselled  manner. 

"  I  almost  feel  that  I  have  the  courage  to  look  at  the 
sketches  of  myself  in  the  papers,"  she  said  lightly  to 
Rush,  who  escorted  her.  "  I  haven't  dared  open  a 
paper  since  Monday  morning." 

"  Better  not."  Rush  also  was  in  high  spirits. 
"  Keep  your  mental  mercury  as  high  as  possible.  It 
doesn't  matter,  anyhow.  You'll  be  clear  in  less  than  a 
week.  The  impression  all  those  splendid  friends  of 
yours  created  knocked  the  prosecution  silly." 

"  I  have  not  once  glanced  at  the  jury,"  said  Mrs. 
Balfame  proudly,  "  and  I  never  shall.  All  I  was  con 
scious  of  was  that  they  were  chewing  gum,  and  that 
the  man  above  me  snorts  constantly." 

"  That's  Houston.  He's  likely  to  be  predisposed  in 
your  favour  on  account  of  your  intimacy  with  Dr. 
Anna.  And  he's  a  just  man,  of  some  intelligence.  I 
fancy  none  of  them  is  in  the  mood  to  be  too  hard  on 
any  one,  for  they  are  having  a  fine  vacation  in  the 
Paradise  City  Hotel.  Each  has  a  big  room  with  a  soft 
bed  and  rich  and  delicate  food  three  times  a  day.  If 
they  don't  get  indigestion  they  will  be  inclined  to  mercy 
on  general  principles.  I  engineered  the  housing  of 
them.  Gore  was  all  for  putting  them  up  at  the  Dobton 

272 


MRS.     BALFAME  273 

Inn,  where  they  would  have  grown  as  vicious  as  starved 
dogs.  I  won  my  point  by  reminding  him  that  certain 
men  of  that  sort  try  to  get  on  a  jury  for  the  sake  of 
having  a  rest  and  a  soft  time,  and  if  they  aren't  coddled, 
they  are  equal  to  falling  ill  and  forcing  the  court  to  be 
gin  the  trial  over  again.  You're  all  right." 

They  were  in  the  jail  sitting-room,  and  she  stood 
with  her  head  thrown  back  and  her  eyes  shining.  The 
moment  they  had  entered  she  had  removed  her  heavy 
hat  and  veil  and  run  her  hands  through  her  crushed 
hair.  Rush,  who  was  very  nervous  and  excited,  made 
a  swift  motion  forward  as  if  to  seize  her  hands.  But 
it  was  only  later,  when  alone,  that  she  realised  that  pos 
sibly  she  had  brushed  aside  an  opportunity  to  rekindle  a 
flame  which  she  alternately  feared  and  doubted  was 
burning  low;  she  was  not  thinking  of  him  and  ex 
claimed  happily: 

"  It  is  quite  a  wonderful  sensation  to  feel  that  you 
have  made  friends  like  that.  My!  how  they  did  lie! 
And  so  convincingly!  For  a  moment  I  was  quite  the 
outsider  and  deeply  impressed  with  the  weakness  of  the 
case  against  the  accused.  Here  they  come.  I  feel  as 
if  I  never  really  loved  them  before."  And  she  ran  to 
the  door  to  admit  the  elated  trio  who  that  day  had  made 
their  noblest  sacrifice  to  the  cause  of  friendship.  Mrs. 
Balfame  kissed  them  and  embraced  them,  and  dried 
their  excited  tears,  while  Rush,  his  contemptible  part 
in  the  day's  drama  forgotten,  slunk  down  the  stairs  and 
out  of  the  jail. 

He  met  Alys  Crumley  as  she  was  about  to  board  the 
trolley  for  Elsinore,  and  she  stepped  back  and  con 
gratulated  him  warmly. 

"  Your  brain  worked  like  blades  of  chain  lightning," 


274  MRS.     BALFAME 

she  said  with  real  enthusiasm.  "  I  know  you  have  only 
begun,  but  I  can  well  imagine  —  wasn't  Mrs.  Balfame 
delighted?" 

"  With  her  friends'  testimony,"  he  replied  gloomily. 
"  I  don't  seem  to  come  in." 

There  are  some  impulses,  born  of  sudden  oppor 
tunity,  too  strong  for  mortal  powers  of  resistance. 
"  Come  home  to  supper,"  said  Miss  Crumley,  with  the 
same  spontaneous  warmth.  "  You  look  so  tired,  and 
Mother  promised  me  Maryland  chicken  and  waffles. 
Besides,  I  want  to  show  you  my  drawings.  I  am  so 
proud  of  being  a  staff  artist." 

"  I'll  come,"  said  Rush  promptly. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

THE  following  day  was  also  taken  by  the  examina 
tion  of  witnesses  for  the  defence.  Dr.  Lequer, 
who  had  been  called  in  occasionally  by  the  Bal  fames 
when  Dr.  Anna  was  unavailable,  and  who  was  also  an 
old  friend  of  the  family,  asserted  that  so  far  as  he 
knew  there  never  had  been  a  quarrel  between  husband 
and  wife.  Mrs.  Bal  fame,  in  fact,  was  unique  in  his 
experience,  inasmuch  as  she  never  looked  depressed  nor 
shed  tears. 

He  was  followed  by  a  woman  who  had  been  general 
housemaid  in  the  Balfame  home  for  three  years.  She 
had  left  it  to  reward  the  devotion  of  a  plumber,  and 
between  her  and  Frieda  there  had  been  a  long  line  of 
the  usual  incompetents.  Mrs.  Figg  testified  with  an 
enthusiasm  which  triumphed  over  nerves  and  grammar 
that  although  she  guessed  Mr.  Balfame  was  about  like 
other  husbands,  especially  at  breakfast,  Mrs.  Balfame 
was  too  easy-going  to  mind.  She'd  never  seen  her 
mad.  Yes,  she  was  an  exacting  mistress,  all  right,  ter 
rible  particular,  and  she  never  sat  with  the  hired  girl 
in  the  kitchen  and  gossiped,  and  you  couldn't  take  a  lib 
erty  with  her  like  you  could  with  some;  but  that  was 
just  her  way,  naturally  proud  and  silent-like.  She 
was  terrible  economical  but  a  kind  mistress,  as  she 
didn't  scold  and  follow  up,  once  she  was  sure  the  girl 
would  suit,  and  not  a  bit  mean  about  evenings  and 
afternoons  off.  She  did  up  her  own  room  and  dusted 

275 


276  MRS.     BALFAME 

the  downstairs  rooms,  except  for  the  weekly  cleaning. 
No,  she  never'd  seen  no  pistol.  It  wasn't  her  way  to 
look  in  bureau  drawers.  No,  she'd  never  seen  or  heard 
any  jealousy,  tempers,  and  so  forth,  and  had  always 
taken  it  for  granted  that  Mrs.  Balfame  wasn't  on  to 
Mr.  Bal fame's  doings  —  or  if  she  was,  she  didn't  care. 
There  was  lots  like  that. 

The  district  attorney  snarled  and  trumpeted 
throughout  this  placid  recital,  but  Mrs.  Figg  took  no 
notice  of  him  whatever.  She  had  been  thoroughly 
drilled,  and  looked  straight  into  the  sparkling  blue  eyes 
of  Mr.  Rush  as  if  hypnotised. 

Other  minor  witnesses  consumed  the  afternoon,  and 
once  more  Mrs.  Balfame  returned  to  the  jail  with  glow 
ing  eyes.  The  women  reporters  were  elated.  The 
men  made  no  comment  as  they  filed  out  of  the  court 
room,  but  their  whole  bearing  expressed  a  lofty  and 
quiet  scorn. 

"  It's  fine !  fine !  "  exclaimed  Cummack,  sitting  down 
beside  Rush  at  the  table  below  the  empty  jury-box. 
"  But  I  do  wish  Dr.  Anna  was  available.  She  stands 
head  and  shoulders  above  every  one  else  in  the  estima 
tion  of  these  jurymen;  she  doctored  the  children  and 
confined  the  wives  of  pretty  near  all  of  them.  There's 
no  stone  she  wouldn't  leave  unturned." 

"She's  pretty  bad,  isn't  she?"  asked  Rush. 
"  Would  there  be  any  chance  at  all  of  getting  a  deposi 
tion  —  in  case  things  went  wrong?  " 

"Things  ain't  goin'  wrong;  but  as  for  Anna,  she's 
out  of  it,  and  everything  else,  I  guess.  I  was  out  to 
the  hospital  yesterday,  for  I've  had  her  in  mind;  but 
although  she  was  better  for  a  time,  she's  worse  again. 


MRS.    BALFAME  277 

But  say  —  what  do  you  think  I  discovered?  Those 
damned  newspaper  men  have  been  hangin'  round  out 
there.  That  young  devil  Broderick  — " 

Rush  was  sitting  up  very  straight,  his  eyes  glittering. 
"  But  he  surely  hasn't  been  able  to  see  her  ?  I  don't 
believe  any  sort  of  graft  would  get  by  Mrs.  Dissos- 
way— " 

"  You  bet  he  hasn't  been  able  to  see  Anna,  and  just 
now  they're  not  leaving  her  for  a  moment  alone,  like 
they  did  at  first.  But  Broderick  seems  to  have  the  idea 
wedged  in  his  brain  that  Mrs.  Balfame  confessed  to 
Anna  and  that  poor  old  Doc  lost  the  pistol  somewhere 
out  in  the  marsh  — " 

Rush  made  an  exclamation  of  disgust,  "  I  can't 
understand  Broderick.  He's  got  his  trial  all  right,  and 
it  isn't  like  him  to  hound  a  woman  — " 

"  I  said  as  much  to  him,  and  though  he  wouldn't  talk 
much,  I  just  gathered  from  something  he  let  fall  that 
he  was  afraid  if  the  crime  wasn't  well  fixed  onto  Enid 
some  innocent  person  he  thought  a  lot  more  of  might 
come  under  suspicion.  Can  you  guess  who  he  had  in 
mind?" 

Rush  pushed  back  his  chair  and  sprang  to  his  feet. 
"  Good  Lord,  no.  One  case  at  a  time  is  all  my  brain  is 
equal  to."  He  was  almost  out  of  the  empty  courtroom 
when  Cummack  caught  him  firmly  by  the  shoulder. 

"  Say,  Dwight,"  he  said  with  evident  embarrassment, 
"hold  on  a  minute.  I've  just  got  to  tell  you  that  some 
how  or  other  I  sensed  you  when  Broderick  was  trying 
to  put  me  off.  There  are  a  good  many  things ;  they've 
been  comin'  back  — " 

Rush  turned  the  hard  glittering  blue  of  his  eyes  full 


278  MRS.     BALFAME 

upon  Mr.  Cummack,  whose  shrewd  but  kindly  gaze  fak 
tered  for  a  moment.  "  Do  you  believe  I  did  it?  "  de 
manded  Rush. 

"  Well,  no,  not  exactly  —  that  is,  I'd  know  that  if 
you  had  done  it,  it  would  have  been  because  you'd  got 
the  idea  into  your  head  that  Enid  was  having  an  awful 
row  to  hoe,  or  because  he'd  attacked  her  that  night.  It 
wouldn't  have  been  for  no  mean  personal  reason,  and 
no  one  knows  better  than  I  that  the  blood  goes  to  the 
head  terrible  easy  at  your  age  and  when  a  beautiful 
woman  is  in  question.  If  I'd  guessed  it  before,  I'm 
free  to  say  I'd  have  rushed  your  arrest  in  order  to  spare 
Enid,  if  for  no  other  reason.  But  as  it's  gone  so  far 
and  she's  sure  to  get  off, —  and  you  wouldn't  stand 
much  show, —  the  matter  had  best  stay  where  it  is ;  par 
ticularly —  well,  I  may  as  well  tell  you  Enid  sort  of 
confided  to  Polly  that  you  had  offered  to  cover  her 
name  with  yours  as  soon  as  she  got  out;  and  if  you've 
been  in  love  with  her  all  this  time,  as  I  guess  you  have 
been  —  well,  Dave  can't  be  brought  back.  And  — 
well,  I've  lived  out  West  and  it  isn't  so  uncommon  there 
for  a  man  to  shoot  on  sight  when  he's  mad  about  a 
woman  and  a  few  other  things  at  the  same  time.  Dave 
was  my  friend,  but  I  guess  I  understand." 

Rush  had  withdrawn  stiffly  from  the  friendly  hand 
laid  on  his  shoulder.  "  I  have  asked  Mrs.  Balfame  to 
marry  me,"  he  said.  "  But  she  has  by  no  means  con 
sented." 

"  But  she  means  to.  Don't  let  it  worry  you. 
Women  are  queer  cattle.  Nail  her  the  next  time  she's 
in  the  melting  mood.  She  gets  'em  oftener  than  she 
ever  did  before,  and  I  guess  you  see  her  alone  often 
enough." 


MRS.     BALFAME  279 

"  Oh,  yes,  I've  seen  her  alone  nearly  every  day  for 
ten  weeks." 

Cummack  narrowed  his  eyes,  and  his  face,  generally 
relaxed  and  amiable,  grew  stern  and  menacing.  "  You 
don't  love  her !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  You  don't !  Like 
many  another  damned  fool,  you've  compromised  your 
very  life  for  a  woman,  only  to  be  disenchanted  by  see 
ing  too  much  of  her.  But  by  God  you've  got  to  marry 
her—" 

They  were  standing  at  the  head  of  the  winding  stair 
in  the  rotunda,  and  several  of  the  reporters  were  still  in 
front  of  the  telephone  booth  below. 

"  Hush !  "  said  the  lawyer  peremptorily.  "  I  mean 
to  marry  Mrs.  Balfame  if  she  accepts  the  proposal  I 
made  to  her  the  day  she  was  arrested.  I  have  said 
nothing  to  warrant  your  jumping  to  the  conclusion  that 
I  no  longer  wish  to  marry  her.  But  by  God!  if  you 
ever  dare  to  threaten  me  again  — "  And  he  raised  his 
fist  so  menacingly,  his  set  face  was  so  tense  and  white, 
his  eyes  bore  such  a  painful  resemblance  to  hot  coals, 
that  Cummack  retreated  hastily. 

"  All  right !  All  right !  "  he  called  up  from  the  first 
turning.  "  Don't  fancy  I  think  I  could.  And  what's 
passed  between  us  is  sacred.  S'long." 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

ON  the  morrow  the  first  witness  called  by  the 
prosecution  in  rebuttal  was  old  Kraus,  and  now 
it  was  Mr.  Rush's  turn  to  shout  "  Immaterial,  Ir 
relevant  and  Incompetent,"  so  that  it  was  well-nigh  im 
possible  for  the  jury  to  do  more  than  guess  what  the 
choleric  person  with  a  strong  German  accent  was  talk 
ing  about.  The  district  attorney  fought  valiantly  to 
draw  forth  the  story  of  Frieda's  nocturnal  visit  to  the 
Kraus  home  in  search  of  advice  after  hearing  Mrs.  Bal- 
fame  enter  the  kitchen  from  the  yard,  but  his  efforts 
ended  in  a  shouting  contest  between  the  prosecution 
and  the  defence,  both  deserting  their  positions  before 
the  jury-box  and  wrangling  before  the  Judge  like  two 
angry  school-boys.  Alys  Crumley  longed  to  laugh 
aloud,  but  not  so  the  Judge.  He  asked  them  curtly 
how  he  was  to  know  what  was  their  point  of  dispute 
if  they  both  talked  at  once.  He  then  commanded  Mr. 
Rush  to  state  in  as  few  words  as  possible  what  he  was 
objecting  to;  and  when  the  counsel  for  the  defence  had 
stated  his  purely  legal  reasons  for  blocking  this  purely 
hearsay  testimony,  the  Judge  abruptly  threw  Mr.  Kraus 
out  of  court.  Rush,  flushed  and  triumphant,  returned 
to  his  chair  below  the  jury-box,  and  Mr.  Gore  sulkily 
called  the  name  of  Miss  Frieda  Appel. 

There  was  no  question  of  poor  Frieda's  making  a 
good  personal  impression  upon  spectators  or  jury,  no 
matter  how  worthy  her  motives.  She  had  saved  almost 

280 


MRS.     BALFAME  281 

every  penny  of  her  wages  since  coming  to  America ;  it 
had  been  her  lover's  intention  to  emigrate  to  Brabant 
County  as  soon  as  his  term  of  service  was  over,  and  her 
housewifely  intention  to  greet  him  with  a  furnished  cot 
tage.  Since  the  war  began,  she  had  sent  all  her  sav 
ings  to  East  Prussia  lest  her  people  starve. 

Dress  in  any  circumstances  would  never  tempt  her. 
Economy  was  her  religion,  and  she  cherished  no  illu 
sions  about  her  face  and  form.  To-day  she  wore  a 
skirt  of  an  old  voluminous  cut  and  a  jacket  with  high 
puckered  sleeves.  The  colour  had  once  been  brown. 
Her  coarse  blonde  hair  met  her  eyebrows  in  a  thick 
bang,  and  its  high  knob  was  surmounted  by  a  sailor  hat 
a  size  too  small.  Her  thick-set  body  was  uncorseted, 
and  her  indeterminate  features  were  lost  in  the  width 
and  flatness  of  her  face.  Only  the  little  eyes  beneath 
the  heavy  thatch  of  hair  alternately  glowed  dully  and 
spat  fire. 

The  Judge  sternly  suppressed  the  titter  that  ran  over 
the  court-room  as  this  caricature  mounted  the  witness- 
stand,  and  the  district  attorney,  in  spite  of  frequent 
interruptions,  elicited  a  remarkably  clear  and  coherent 
statement.  The  Judge  sustained  him,  for  here  was  a 
real  witness,  and  Miss  Appel  not  only  had  been  as 
thoroughly  rehearsed  as  Mrs.  Figg,  but  she  had  a  neat 
precise  little  mind  set  with  rows  of  pigeonholes  that 
ejected  their  contents  in  routine  when  her  coach  pressed 
the  cognate  button. 

She  had  come  home  abruptly  from  the  dance-hall  as 
she  had  an  insupportable  toothache  —  had  run  all  the 
way,  as  she  had  some  toothache-drops  in  her  room. 
She  wras  in  such  agony  she  hardly  had  noticed  that  her 
friend  Conrad  Kraus  was  behind  her.  When  she 


282  MRS.     BALFAME 

reached  her  room  she  had  applied  the  drops,  and  to  her 
horror  they  made  the  pain  worse.  After  walking  the 
floor  for  perhaps  ten  minutes  —  she  didn't  know  or 
care  whether  it  was  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  —  she  was 
just  starting  to  go  down-stairs  and  heat  some  water  for 
her  bag  when  she  heard  the  kitchen  door  open  and  shut. 
She  held  her  breath  and  did  not  answer  when  Mrs.  Bal- 
fame  called,  as  she  feared  she  was  wanted  and  was 
determined  to  do  nothing  for  anybody  while  her  tooth 
ached  like  that. 

Mrs.  Balfame's  voice  had  sounded  quite  breathless, 
as  if  she  had  been  running.  In  a  moment  Frieda  heard 
her  go  into  the  dining-room  then  back  to  the  kitchen, 
and  turn  on  the  tap, —  not  the  filter,  which  made  no 
noise, —  and  then  she  heard  one  glass  clink  against  an 
other  on  the  pantry  shelf.  After  that,  Mrs.  Balfame 
went  upstairs  from  the  front  hall  and  the  witness  re 
turned  to  her  room  and  threw  herself  on  the  bed,  where 
she  remained  until  Mr.  Cummack  came  and  asked  her 
to  go  downstairs  and  make  coffee.  By  this  time  her 
tooth  ached  so  she  didn't  care  what  she  did. 

Cross-questioned,  she  admitted  that 'Mrs.  Balfame 
was  in  the  habit  of  drinking  a  glass  of  filtered  water  the 
last  thing  at  night.  No,  she  had  not  heard  her  go  out> 
but  only  come  in.  But  why,  if  Mrs.  Balfame  saw 
nothing  outside  to  frighten  her,  or  if  she  hadn't  been 
out,  was  she  so  short  of  breath  ?  As  may  be  imagined, 
mere  speculation  on  Miss  Appel's  part  was  cut  short  by 
Mr.  Rush,  who  interrupted  her  constantly.  Yes,  she 
had  heard  what  she  now  knew  had  been  a  shot  but  she 
had  paid  no  attention.  Who  would,  with  a  red-hot 
iron  forcing  one's  tooth  down  through  one's  jaw  ? 

Even  the  scornful  questions  of  counsel  which  forced 


MRS.     BALFAME  283 

her  to  admit  that  she  had  lied  to  the  coroner  neither  per 
turbed  her  nor  made  any  impression  on  jury,  press,  or 
spectators.  Every  ane  present  had  suffered  from 
toothache,  and  two  farmers  in  the  box  showed  their 
tusks  in  an  appreciative  grin  when  she  replied  tartly 
that  she  didn't  know  or  care  anything  that  day  but 
tooth,  tooth,  tooth.  It  was  manifest  that  she  was  far 
too  conservative  to  have  had  it  out  at  once,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  cost. 

The  only  question  she  was  not  prepared  for  was  the 
abrupt  challenge  of  Mr.  Rush  as  to  how  she  could  prove 
that  young  Kraus  had  followed  her  if  she  had  neither 
seen  nor  spoken  to  him  during  that  short  run  from  Main 
Street.  But  although  she  was  visibly  perturbed  at  be 
ing  confronted  with  a  set  of  words  to  which  no  neat 
little  pigeon-hole  responded,  it  was  so  evident  she  was 
firmly  convinced  her  friend  had  accompanied  her,  that 
for  Rush  to  make  too  much  of  his  solitary  point  would 
prejudice  his  case,  and  he  let  her  go. 

Conrad  Jr.  followed,  and  his  story  was  equally 
straightforward.  He  also  made  a  good  impression. 
True,  he  had  a  very  small  closely  cropped  head,  with 
eyes  too  small  and  ears  too  large,  but  he  held  himself 
with  arrogance,  and  he  was  well  dressed  in  a  new  grey 
suit  and  pink  shirt.  Born  in  the  United  States,  it  was 
manifest  that  he  was  proud  not  only  of  being  an  Amer 
ican  citizen  but  of  the  country's  choicest  vintage.  He 
had  been  sent  to  the  public  school  until  he  was  sixteen, 
had  studied  conscientiously,  and  his  grammar  was  quite 
as  good  as  that  of  the  District  Attorney,  who  in  emo 
tional  moments  confused  his  negatives.  But,  even 
Rush,  whose  advantages  had  been  as  superior  as  his 
natural  equipment,  became  a  good  nasal  American  when 


284  MRS.    BALFAME 

excited,  opened  into  vowels,  and  freely  translated  you 
into  yer.  It  is  these  persistent  characteristics,  so  racy 
of  the  soil,  which  cheer  us  when  apprehending  that  our 
original  Americanism  may  in  time  be  obliterated  by  the 
foreign  influx. 

No,  said  young  Kraus,  he  had  no  sentimental  interest 
in  Frieda.  (He  smiled.)  And  he  was  engaged  to  a 
young  lady  to  whom  he  had  been  attentive  for  three 
years.  But  he  felt  like  a  brother  to  Frieda;  she  had 
come  to  his  father's  house  direct  from  Germany,  their 
families  having  been  friends  for  generations.  It  was 
not  only  his  duty  but  his  pleasure  to  dance  with  her,  she 
being  "  the  best  of  the  bunch  down  at  the  hall." 

As  he  was  dancing  with  her  when  her  toothache  be 
came  unendurable,  it  was  natural  that  he  should  see  her 
home ;  in  fact,  he  always  saw  her  home  when  it  was  con 
venient.  Of  course  if  he  had  to  catch  the  last  trolley 
for  Dobton  in  a  hurry,  that  was  another  matter. 

When  she  had  entered  the  house,  he  had  waited, 
thinking  she  might  want  some  other  drops  or  possibly  a 
dentist.  Once  when  he  had  had  a  toothache,  he  had 
been  obliged  to  go  to  a  dentist's  house  at  night.  His 
papa  had  sent  him,  and  naturally  he  thought  of  it  as  a 
possibility  in  Frieda's  case. 

Then  the  kitchen  door  opened  and  a  woman  came 
out. 

At  this  point  the  interest  in  the  court-room  became 
intense.  Even  the  blase  young  reporters  sat  forward, 
their  pencils  poised.  The  Judge  wheeled  his  chair  to 
the  right  and  stared  down  fixedly  at  the  back  of  young 
Kraus'  head.  The  district  attorney  balanced  himself 
on  his  heels,  his  thumbs  hooked  in  the  sleeves  of  his 
vest,  and  Rush  stood  with  his  back  curved  as  if  to  spring 


MRS.     BALFAME  285 

down  the  witness'  throat  with  a  wild  yell  of  "  Imma 
terial,  irrelevant  and  incompetent."  Only  Mrs.  Bal- 
fame  sat  like  a  statue  that  had  neither  eyes  to  see  nor 
ears  to  hear. 

Yes,  Mr.  Kraus  recognised  Mrs.  Bal fame's  figure  and 
walk.  She  was  one  in  a  thousand  for  looks,  and  taller 
than  many  men.  She  had  on  a  long  dark  ulster  and  a 
black  scarf  round  her  head.  The  kitchen  light  was  be 
hind  her  — 

Here  there  was  another  furious  contest  between  the 
chief  counsel  and  the  district  attorney,  but  the  Judge 
ordered  the  young  man  (who  had  consumed  a  toothpick 
imperturbably)  to  proceed  with  his  story.  Mrs.  Bal- 
fame  had  slipped  round  the  corner  of  the  house,  listened 
intently,  walked  for  a  minute  toward  the  back  of  the 
grounds, —  he  could  just  see  the  moving  shadow  in  the 
darkness, —  turned  abruptly  and  entered  the  grove. 
Naturally  interested,  he  waited  to  see  what  she  was  up 
to ;  and  then  —  possibly  three  or  four  minutes  later  — 
he  heard  Bal  fame  singing  "  Tipperary,"  and  a  moment 
or  two  after  that  the  shot, —  one  shot,  not  two;  he  took 
no  stock  in  the  theory  that  there  had  been  two  shots, — 
followed  by  loud  voices  from  the  other  side  of  the  ave 
nue. 

Then  he  "  beat  it,"  that  being  his  natural  instinct  at 
the  moment.  His  papa  had  taught  him  to  be  cautious 
and  to  keep  clear  of  other  people's  fights.  He  had 
never  been  close  up  against  a  crime,  and  he  hoped  he 
never  should  be.  He  walked  through  the  adjoining 
grounds  at  the  back  and  then  into  Bal  fame  Street  and 
took  the  next  trolley  home.  He  didn't  feel  like  danc 
ing  after  what  he  guessed  had  happened. 

No,  he  had  heard  no  sound  of  running  footsteps,  but 


286  MRS.     BALFAME 

he  stood  for  a  moment  near  the  back  fence  of  the 
Lequer  place;  there  were  people  in  the  library  until 
some  man  ran  in  calling  for  the  doctor  to  come  at  once 
—  and  he  did  see  a  car  leave  the  lane  behind  the  Bal- 
fame  place.  He  had  thought  nothing  of  it,  however, 
as  automobiles  were  everywhere  all  the  time.  No,  he 
hadn't  tried  to  see  whether  the  car  was  driven  by  a  man 
or  woman  or  how  many  occupants  it  had.  Not  only 
was  the  night  very  dark  (as  far  as  he  remembered,  the 
car  had  no  lamps) ,  but  his  one  idea  was  to  get  out  of  the 
neighbourhood. 

Rush  put  him  through  a  grilling  cross-examination, 
and  although  he  could  not  shake  his  testimony,  he  made 
use  of  all  his  practised  arts  to  exhibit  the  youth  as  a 
sorry  coward  who  ran  away  when  he  heard  a  revolver- 
shot  instead  of  rushing  with  the  common  instinct  of 
American  manhood  to  ascertain  if  it  were  the  woman 
herself  who  had  been  the  victim.  How  much  had  he 
been  paid  to  give  this  testimony  withheld  at  the  coro 
ner's  inquest?  Young  Kraus'  ruddy  hues  had  deep 
ened  to  purple  some  time  since,  and  he  shouted  back 
that  he  had  come  forward  only  when  that  woman's  ly 
ing  friends  were  trying  to  fasten  the  crime  upon  his 
innocent  papa.  Here  he  was  sternly  admonished  by  the 
Judge  to  confine  his  answers  to  "  Yes  "  and  "  No  " 
unless  he  could  control  his  temper.  Rush  forced  him 
to  reiterate  that  he  had  not  had  a  glimpse  of  Mrs.  Bal- 
fame's  face  that  night,  that  he  never  had  spoken  to 
her  at  any  time;  and  the  lawyer  remarked  crushingly 
that  the  young  man's  brain  must  have  been  in  a  hope 
lessly  confused  state  if  he  saw  a  car  leave  the  lane  so 
soon  after  the  shooting  —  a  car,  moreover,  without 
lights  —  and  failed  to  connect  this  phenomenon  with 


MRS.     BALFAME  287 

the  immediately  previous  sound  of  a  pistol-shot.  It 
was  evident  that  his  brain  moved  so  slowly  that  it  had 
taken  him  almost  a  week  to  put  a  good  story  together. 

Young  Kraus  left  the  stand  with  his  inborn  sense 
of  superiority  over  mere  Americans  severely  shaken, 
but  although  his  small  angry  eyes  encountered  more 
than  one  sneer,  and  many  of  those  hostile  spectators 
looked  as  if  they  would  laugh  outright  were  it  not  for 
their  awe  of  the  Judge,  he  had  injured  Mrs.  Balfame 
far  more  than  himself.  Few  believed  him  to  be  lying 
or  that  he  had  seen  a  vision,  not  a  real  woman,  leave 
the  Balfame  house  by  the  kitchen  door.  He  was  known 
to  have  been  as  sober  as  usual  on  the  night  of  the  dance, 
and  as  the  evidence  against  his  father  had  been  regarded 
as  fantastic  from  the  first,  there  was  no  conceivable 
cause  for  him  to  lie. 

Mr.  Gi  fning,  Mr.  Battle  and  Mr.  Garden,  who  were 
the  first  to  reach  Balfame,  after  he  fell,  were  forced 
by  the  district  attorney  to  give  damning  evidence 
against  Mrs.  Balfame.  Her  room  was  in  the  front 
of  the  house;  if  in  it,  she  could  have  heard  the  shot  as 
plainly  as  they  on  Mr.  Gifning's  veranda.  But  she  did 
not  come  downstairs  or  manifest  herself  in  any  way 
until  they  had  had  time  to  summon  the  coroner  (who  to 
be  sure  lived  round  the  corner)  and  Dr.  Lequeur.  It 
must  have  been  quite  six  minutes  before  she  opened  her 
window  and  demanded  the  reason  for  the  disturbance  at 
her  gate.  At  least,  it  had  seemed  that  long.  No,  they 
never  confused  a  revolver-shot  with  a  bursting  tire. 
They  had  when  cars  first  came  into  use,  but  they  had 
learned  to  differentiate  long  since. 

When  Mr.  Rush  asked  them  sarcastically  why  one  at 
least  of  the  party  had  not  searched  the  grove  and  at- 


288  MRS.     BALFAME 

tempted  to  capture  the  murderer,  they  replied  they 
had  by  no  means  been  sure  that  the  shot  had  come  from 
the  grove.  It  might  have  come  from  anywhere.  It 
was  only  after  the  doctor's  examination  that  the  direc 
tion  of  the  bullet  had  been  agreed  upon.  Later  they 
did  search  the  grove  with  a  dark-lantern  brought  from 
Mrs.  Gifning's  house;  in  fact,  they  searched  every  inch 
of  the  grounds,  and  their  only  reward  was  abuse  from 
the  police. 

These  three  witnesses,  examined  after  the  noon  re 
cess,  occupied  very  little  time.  It  was  at  ten  minutes 
to  four  that  the  district  attorney  electrified  every  one 
in  the  courtroom  by  calling  to  the  stand  a  man  whose 
name  up  to  that  moment  had  not  been  mentioned  in  the 
case.  The  reporters  looked  deeply  annoyed ;  even  Mrs. 
Balfame  raised  her  head  a  trifle  higher  as  if  listening; 
Rush's  pale  face  was  paler,  the  lines  in  it  seemed  deeper, 
as  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  alert  at  once,  his  nostrils  ex 
panding.  The  district  attorney  balanced  himself  on 
his  heels,  his  thumbs  in  his  waistcoat  armholes,  a  grin  of 
triumph  on  his  sharp  little  face. 

The  name  called  was  James  Mott,  and  it  was  borne 
by  a  highly  reputable  drummer  who  had  made  sales 
for  many  years  to  houses  carrying  general  merchandise, 
including  that  of  Balfame  &  Cummack.  Mr.  Mott  was 
as  well  known  in  Brabant  County  as  any  of  its  inhabi 
tants;  in  fact,  he  was  engaged  to  an  estimable  young 
lady  of  Elsinore,  and  hence,  so  it  soon  transpired,  had 
happened  to  be  in  town  on  the  fatal  night.  For  once 
the  acumen  of  the  district  attorney  had  proved  more 
penetrating  than  that  of  the  brilliant  counsel  for  the 
defence. 

Mr.  Mott  took  the  stand.     He  was  a  clean-shaven 


MRS.     BALFAME  289 

upstanding  American  with  the  keen  eye  and  grim  mouth 
of  the  travelling  salesman  who  knows  that  he  must 
do  or  die.  He  looked  as  honest  as  urbane,  and  for  the 
first  time  Mrs.  Balfame's  heart  sank;  and  her  hands,  so 
the  women  reporters  noted  for  the  benefit  of  the  public, 
clenched  for  a  full  minute. 

Although  Rush  stood  with  his  head  stretched  for 
ward,  he  thought  it  wise  to  let  the  man  tell  his  story  in 
his  own  way.  Interruptions  would  have  been  of  little 
avail;  the  Judge  would  sustain  the  district  attorney 
if  it  were  patent  the  witness  were  telling  the  truth ;  and 
as  he  was  completely  in  the  dark  himself  it  were  better 
to  wait  until  he  got  a  promising  lead.  He  knew  that 
no  man's  brain  could  work  more  quickly  than  his. 

Mr.  Mott  being  solemnly  sworn,  deposed  that  on  the 
night  of  the  shooting  he  had  been  taking  supper  with  his 
friend  Miss  Lacke,  who  lived  at  Number  3  Dawbarn 
Street,  just  round  the  corner  from  Elsinore  Avenue. 
He  left  her  house  at  a  little  before  eight,  as  he  was 
obliged  to  catch  the  eight-ten  for  New  York.  As 
he  closed  the  gate  behind  him,  he  saw  D'avid  Balfame 
walk  unsteadily  past,  shouting  "  Tipperary  "  ;  and  being 
a  friend  of  many  years'  standing,  had  concluded  to  fol 
low  and  see  Balfame  safely  inside  the  house.  He 
would  lose  but  a  minute  or  two,  and  it  seemed  to  him  a 
decent  act,  for  it  was  possible  the  man  might  fall  and 
hurt  himself  before  he  reached  his  home.  Mott  was  so 
close  behind  him  that  he  must  have  just  escaped  the 
shot  or  shots  himself,  and  although  he  jumped  back 
ward  he  saw  distinctly  somebody  run  out  of  the  grove 
and  toward  the  back  of  the  house.  Whether  it  was  a 
man  or  a  woman  he  had  no  idea,  but  the  figure  was  tall 
—  yes  far  taller  than  either  young  Kraus  or  Frieda. 


2QQ  MRS.     BALFAME 

Then,  he  said,  he  doubled  on  his  tracks  and  got  back 
into  Dawbarn  Street  as  quickly  as  he  could.  He 
blushed  as  he  admitted  this,  but  added  that  he  knew 
from  the  shouts  on  Gifning's  veranda  that  men  were 
hastening  to  Bal fame's  aid,  and  he  had  to  catch  the 
eight-ten  or  lose  his  night  train  to  the  West  and  a 
big  piece  of  business.  Moreover,  he  didn't  like  the  idea 
of  giving  testimony  against  anybody;  he  abhorred  the 
institution  of  capital  punishment.  For  the  same  reason 
he  did  not  come  forward  until  the  District  Attorney  fer 
reted  him  out,  as  he  was  afraid  the  running  figure  might 
have  been  Mrs.  Balfame  and  she  was  the  last  person 
he  wished  to  harm,  innocent  or  guilty. 

No  one  could  doubt  that  he  told  the  truth  and  hated 
to  tell  it.  Nor  could  any  one  jump  to  the  conclusion 
that  he  was  the  assassin ;  he  had  as  little  motive  for  kill 
ing  Balfame  as  any  of  the  other  men  of  Brabant  County 
with  whom  he  had  been  for  years  on  the  same  cordial 
terms. 

All  that  Rush  could  do  was  to  make  him  admit  that 
perhaps  he  was  naturally  confused  by  the  flash,  the  re 
port  almost  in  his  ear,  the  man  sinking  at  his  feet,  and 
only  fancied  he  saw  a  running  form ;  the  delusion  would 
be  natural  in  the  circumstances,  particularly  as  his 
thoughts  seemed  to  have  been  concentrated  upon  getting 
out  of  the  way.  Mr.  Mott  admitted  almost  too  eagerly 
that  this  might  be  true,  but  added  that  when  the  district 
attorney,  who  was  a  cousin  of  Miss  Lacke,  as  well  as  an 
old  friend  of  his  own,  had  squeezed  the  story  out  of  him 
bit  by  bit  (the  form  of  extraction  was  supplied  by  Mr. 
Rush),  that  had  been  his  impression;  he  seemed  to 
have  that  tall  running  figure  imprinted  upon  his  retina, 
as  it  were.  Of  course  it  might  be  just  imagination. 


MRS.     BALFAME  291 

He  wished  to  God  he  could  swear  it  was.  When  asked 
sharply  if  even  one  of  his  parents  was  German,  he  re 
covered  his  poise  and  replied  haughtily  that  he  was 
straight  American  and  as  pro- Allies  as  the  best  man  in 
the  country.  He  had  never  entered  Old  Dutch's  beer 
garden ;  his  choice  was  a  hotel  bar,  anyhow ;  he  avoided 
saloons. 

Rush  had  a  diabolical  power  of  making  a  witness  look 
ridiculous,  but  the  American  mind  is  essentially  a  just 
mind,  normally  unemotional,  and  a  very  magnet  for 
facts.  As  the  Judge  adjourned  the  court  until  Mon 
day  the  sob-sisters  trailed  out  dejectedly,  after  a  vain 
endeavour  to  get  close  to  Mrs.  Balfame ;  the  young  men 
sauntered  forth  with  their  heads  in  the  air,  and  Rush's 
lips  were  so  closely  pressed  together  that  his  face  looked 
pure  granite.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  his  heart  felt  like 
water. 

Mrs.  Balfame,  who  had  not  permitted  herself  to  show 
a  flicker  of  interest  while  Mott  was  on  the  stand,  rose  as 
the  Judge  left  the  room.  She  smiled  upon  each  of  her 
friends  separately  and  kissed  the  prominent  ladies  of 
Elsinore  who  had  sat  beside  her  throughout  that  trying 
day. 

"  Please  don't  come  over  to  the  jail,"  she  said.  "  I 
know  you  are  worn  out,  and  I  have  a  bad  headache.  I 
must  lie  down.  But  do  please  come  to-morrow.  You 
are  all  too  good.  Thank  you  so  much." 

Then  with  a  faint  smile  and  a  light  step  she  followed 
the  sheriff  through  the  long  tunnel,  a  horrible  vision 
dancing  before  her  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

WHEN  Rush  arrived  at  the  sitting-room  of  the 
jail's  private  suite  he  found  Mrs.  Balfame,  not 
in  tears  as  he  had  nervously  anticipated,  but  distraught, 
pacing  the  room,  her  hands  in  her  disordered  hair. 

"  I  am  done  for !  done  for ! "  she  cried  as  Rush 
hastily  closed  the  door.  "  It  would  have  been  better 
if  I  had  told  the  truth  in  the  beginning  —  that  I  had 
gone  out  that  night.  It  was  not  such  a  bad  excuse, — 
that  I  thought  I  saw  a  burglar  down  there, —  and  it 
was  God's  truth.  Or  I  could  have  said  I  was  walking 
about  the  grounds  because  I  had  a  headache  — " 

"  It  never  would  have  gone  down.  If  I  could  have 
discovered  who  the  other  person  in  the  grove  was  — 
found  him  and  his  forty-one-calibre  revolver,  well  and 
good.  Failing  that,  our  line  of  defence  is  the  best 
possible.  I  will  admit,  though,"  he  too  was  pacing  the 
room, —  "  it  looks  bad  to-day,  pretty  bad.  There  isn't 
the  ghost  of  a  chance  to  prove  Mott  was  the  man. 
Gore  has  the  time  to  the  minute  he  left  Susie  Lacke's; 
you  must  have  gone  out  some  time  before — " 

"  Oh,  he  didn't  do  it.  ;  I've  not  thought  it  for  a 
moment.  No  such  luck.  It  was  some  enemy  who 
went  straight  to  New  York  —  in  that  car.  But  I  —  I 
—  Auburn  —  the  electric  chair  —  they  all  believed  — 
Oh,  my  God!  God!" 

She  had  tossed  her  arms  above  her  head  then  flung 
herself  down  before  the  table,  her  face  upon  them, 

292 


MRS.     BALFAME  293 

rocking  her*  body  back  and  forth.  Her  voice  was  deep 
with  horror  and  despair,  her  abandonment  far  more 
complete  than  on  the  day  of  her  arrest;  and  wrought 
up  himself,  Rush  was  stirred  with  the  echo  of  all  he 
had  felt  that  day.  In  the  semi-intimacy  of  these  past 
ten  weeks,  when  he  had  talked  with  her  for  hours  at  a 
time,  she  had  disillusioned  him  in  many  ways,  bored 
him,  forced  him  to  admit  that  her  lovely  shell  concealed 
an  uninteresting  mind,  and  that  the  only  depths  in  her 
personality  that  he  was  permitted  to  glimpse  were  such 
as  to  make  him  shrink,  by  no  means  to  excite  that  fas 
cination  even  in  repulsion  peculiar  to  the  faults  of  a 
more  passionate  nature.  He  still  thought  her  the  most 
beautiful  woman  he  had  ever  seen,  however,  and  if  it 
was  beauty  which  now  left  him  cold,  his  admiration 
of  her  had  been  renewed  these  last  three  days  when  her 
manner  and  appearance  in  court  had  been  beyond  all 
praise.  He  had  excoriated  himself  for  his  fickleness, 
his  contemptible  failure  as  a  lover;  and  the  more  he 
hated  himself  the  more  grimly  determined  he  was  to 
behave  precisely  as  if  he  still  loved  and  revered  her  as 
he  had  when  ready  to  sacrifice  life  itself  for  her  sake. 
He  was  in  such  an  impasse  that  he  cared  little  what  be 
came  of  himself. 

He  leaned  over  the  table  and  pressed  his  hands  hard 
on  her  arms. 

"  Listen !  "  he  said  peremptorily.  "  You  never  will 
go  to  Auburn.  You  will  leave  this  jail  not  later  than 
the  middle  of  next  week,  a  free  woman.  If  I  cannot 
get  you  off  by  my  address  to  the  jury, —  and  it  will  be 
the  supreme  effort  of  my  life, —  I'll  take  the  stand  and 
swear  that  I  committed  the  murder  myself." 

"What?"     She  lifted  her  head  and  stared  up  at 


294  MRS.     BALFAME 

him.  His  face  was  set,  but  his  eyes  glowed  like  blue 
coals. 

"  Yes.  I  can  put  it  over,  all  right.  You  remember 
I  went  to  your  house  from  the  Club  that  day.  Nobody 
saw  me  go ;  no  one  saw  me  leave.  From  the  moment  I 
left  you,  until  the  following  morning,  no  one  —  no  one 
that  I  know  of  —  saw  me  that  night,  except  Dr.  Anna. 
We  met  out  on  the  road  leading  to  Houston's  farm, 
and  she  drove  me  in.  She  believes  I  did  it.  So  does 
Cummack,  and  if  necessary  he  will  manage  to  get  an 
affidavit  from  her  — " 

Mrs.  Balfame  had  sprung  to  her  feet.  "  Did  you  do 
it?  Did  you?" 

"  Aha !  I  can  make  even  you  believe  it.  No,  I  did 
not,  but  I  couldn't  prove  an  alibi  if  my  life  depended 
upon  it.  I  can  make  the  Judge  and  the  jury  believe  — " 

"  And  do  you  think  I  would  permit  — " 

"  They  will  believe  me.  And  Dr.  Anna  —  who 
would  doubt  her  testimony  that  my  appearance  and 
conduct  were  highly  suspicious  that  night  on  the  marsh 
road?  And  what  could  you  disprove?  There  was  a 
man  in  that  grove,  was  there  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  not  you ;  I  don't  know  why,  but  I  could 
swear  to  that.  I  shall  —  if  you  do  anything  so  mad  — 
tell  the  whole  truth  about  myself." 

"What  good  would  that  do?  Balfame  was  killed 
with  a  forty-one  revolver.  Yours  was  a  thirty-eight." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ?  " 

"  I  found  it  the  night  I  spent  in  your  house  —  the 
night  of  your  arrest.  I  knew  that  you  never  would 
have  gone  out  to  head  off  a  burglar  without  a  revolver 
—  any  more  than  the  jury  would  have  believed  it.  I 
found  the  pistol.  Never  mind  the  long  and  many  de- 


MRS.     BALFAME  295 

tails  ol  the  search.  It  is  in  my  safe.  I  kept  it  on  the 
off  chance  that  it  might  be  necessary  to  produce  it  after 
all." 

"  But  I  fired  at  him.  I  hardly  knew  that  I  was  firing, 
until  I  felt  the  revolver  in  my  hand  go  off.  Perhaps 
it  was  a  suggestion  from  that  tense  figure  so  close  to 
me,  intent  upon  murder.  Perhaps  I  merely  felt  I  must 
—  must  —  I  have  never  been  able  to  analyse  what 
I  did  feel  in  those  terrible  seconds.  It  doesn't  matter. 
I  did.  And  you?  You  know  I  fired  with  intent  to 
kill.  Did  you  guess  at  once  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  But  it  doesn't  matter.  You  were  not 
yourself,  of  course.  You  had  what  is  called  an  inhibi 
tion —  as  maddened  people  have  when  fighting  their 
way  out  of  a  burning  theatre.  I  only  wish  you  had 
told  me.  I  —  that  is  to  say,  it  is  never  fair  to  keep 
your  counsel  in  the  dark." 

"  You  mean  you  wish  I  had  not  lied !  "  She  caught 
him  up  with  swift  intuition.  "  Well,  to-day  I  would 
not,  but  then  —  well,  I  was  full  of  pettiness,  it  seems 
to  me  now.  But  although  I  am  far  even  yet  from  be 
ing  a  fine  woman, —  I  know  that !  —  I  am  not  a  poor 
enough  creature  to  let  you  die  for  me.  Oh,  you  are 
far  too  good  for  me.  I  never  dreamed  that  a  man 
would  go  as  far  as  that  for  a  woman  in  these  days.  I 
thought  it  was  only  in  books — " 

'  The  veriest  trash  is  inspired  by  the  actual  occur 
rences  of  life  —  which  is  pretty  much  the  same  in  books 
as  out.  And  I  guess  men  haven't  changed  much  since 
the  world  began,  so  far  as  making  fools  of  themselves 
about  a  woman  is  concerned." 

As  she  stood  with  one  hand  pressed  hard  against  the 
table  she  was  far  more  deeply  moved  than  a  few  mo- 


296  MRS.     BALFAME 

merits  since  by  fear,  although  outwardly  calm.  She 
had  climbed  far  out  of  her  old  self  within  these  prison 
walls,  but  she  saw  steeper  heights  before  her,  and  she 
welcomed  them. 

"  Then,"  she  said  deliberately,  "  I  must  cure  you. 
Before  I  went  out,  I  had  prepared  that  glass  of  lemon 
ade  and  put  poison  in  it.  I  had  planned  for  several 
weeks  to  kill  him  when  a  favourable  opportunity  ar 
rived.  I  had  stolen  a  secret  poison  from  Anna  —  out 
of  that  chimney  cupboard  Cassie  described.  You  see 
that  I  am  a  potential  murderer, —  and  a  cold-blooded 
one, —  even  if  by  a  curious  irony  of  fate  some  one  else 
committed  the  deed.  Now  do  you  think  I  am  worth 
giving  up  your  life  for  —  going  to  the  electric  chair  — " 

"  Suppose  we  postpone  further  argument  until  the 
necessity  arises  —  if  it  ever  does.  I  fully  expect  you 
to  be  triumphantly  acquitted.  Tell  me"  —  he  looked 
at  her  curiously,  for  he  divined  something  of  her  inner 
revolutions  and  hated  himself  the  more  that  he  was  in 
terested  only  as  every  good  lawyer  must  be  in  human 
nature, —  "  could  you  do  that  in  cold  blood  again  ?  " 

"  No  —  not  that  way  —  never.  I  might  let  a  pistol 
go  off  under  the  same  provocation  —  that  is  bad 
enough." 

"  Oh,  no.  Remove  the  restraints  of  a  lifetime  —  or 
perhaps  it  is  merely  a  matter  of  vibration  and  striking 
the  right  key." 

"  And  do  you  mean  that  —  you  still  want  to  marry 
me?" 

"  Yes,"  he  answered  steadily.     "  Certainly  I  do." 

"  Ah !  "  Once  more  she  wondered  if  he  still  loved 
her.  But  she  had  been  too  sure  of  him  and  of  herself 
to  harbour  doubt  for  more  than  a  passing  moment. 


MRS.     BALFAME  297 

She  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had  merely  taken 
her  at  her  word,  and  she  knew  the  specialising  instinct 
of  the  busy  American.  She  had,  indeed,  wondered  if 
it  were  not  the  strongest  instinct  he  possessed.  And 
in  spite  of  her  new  humility,  she  had  suffered  no  loss  of 
confidence  in  herself  as  a  woman.  She  vaguely  felt 
that  she  had  lost  something  of  this  man's  esteem,  but 
trusted  to  time  and  her  own  charm  to  dim  the  impres 
sion.  For  she  had  made  up  her  mind  to  marry  him. 
Not  only  would  it  be  the  wisest  possible  move  after 
acquittal, —  a  decent  time  after, —  but  during  sleepless 
hours  she  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  she  loved  this 
brilliant  knightly  young  man  as  deeply  as  it  was  in  her 
power  to  love  any  one.  And  after  this  terrible  expe 
rience  and  the  many  changes  it  had  wrought  within  her, 
she  wanted  to  be  happy. 

He  had  taken  up  his  hat.  She  crossed  the  room 
swiftly  and  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm.  "  I  could  not 
stand  one  word  of  love-making  in  jail,"  she  said,  smil 
ing  up  at  him  graciously,  although  her  eyes  were  se 
rious.  "  But  it  is  only  fair  to  tell  you  now  that  if  I 
am  acquitted  I  will  marry  you." 

And  stabbed  with  a  pang  of  bitter  regret  that  he  felt 
not  the  least  impulse  to  scout  her  authority  and  seize 
her  in  his  arms,  he  bent  over  her  hand  and  kissed  it  with 
cold  lips,  but  with  an  air  of  complete  gallantry. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said,  and  went  out. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

RUSH  slept  until  two  o'clock  the  next  day,  after  a 
night  passed  at  the  Paradise  City  Hotel  in  con 
sultation  with  two  of  his  future  partners;  they  had 
spent  Saturday  in  the  courtroom  at  Dobton.  He  had 
also  discovered  that  the  jury  enjoyed  themselves  in  the 
winter  garden  after  dinner,  and  by  no  means  in  close 
formation.  Although  nominally  under  guard,  it  would 
have  been  a  simple  matter  to  pass  a  note  to  any  one  of 
them.  Two,  he  further  discovered,  had  been  allowed 
to  telephone  and  to  enter  the  booth  alone.  He  had 
been  told  nothing  further  of  the  intention  of  Cum- 
mack  and  other  friends  of  his  client  to  "  fix  "  the  jury 
—  had,  indeed,  discouraged  such  confidences  promptly ; 
but  he  saw  that  if  the  enemy  desired  to  employ  the 
methods  of  corruption  they  need  be  no  more  intricate 
than  those  of  the  men  that  had  so  much  more  to  lose  if 
detected. 

The  night  had  been  devoted  to  discussion  of  the  case ; 
he  even  enjoyed  a  friendly  hour  with  the  district  at 
torney,  who  notably  relaxed  on  Saturdays  after  five 
o'clock;  and  when  Rush  awoke  on  the  following  after 
noon  he  immediately  resolved  to  dismiss  the  whole 
affair  from  his  own  mind  until  Monday  morning.  He 
would  go  into  the  woods  and  think  his  own  thoughts. 
They  would  be  dreary  thoughts  and  imbued  no  doubt 
with  cynicism,  himself  the  target;  and  they  had  passed 

298 


MRS.     BALFAME  299 

that  problematical  stage  in  which  the  mind,  no  matter 
how  harrowed,  sips  lingeringly  at  the  varied  banquet 
of  the  ego;  in  fact,  Rush's  personal  problems  were  al 
most  invariably  settled  in  his  subconsciousness,  and  rose 
automatically  to  confront  the  reasoning  faculties  with 
out  an  instant's  warning.  He  was  too  impatient  for 
self -analysis;  and  he  was  the  sum  of  his  acts  and  of 
the  clear  mental  processes  of  his  conscious  life. 

The  bright  winter  sun  struck  down  through  the  close 
tree-tops  and  upon  the  brilliant  surfaces  of  a  recent 
fall  of  snow.  The  ground  was  hard  and  white;  the 
branches  of  the  trees  were  heavy  laden.  Not  a  sound 
broke  the  winter  stillness  but  his  footsteps  on  the  win 
ter  snow.  He  had  put  on  a  heavy  white  sweater  and 
cap,  as  he  intended  to  walk  for  hours,  and  his  nervous 
hands  were  in  his  pockets.  He  believed  he  should 
have  the  woods  to  himself,  for  in  winter  it  was  the 
Country  Club  and  the  roadhouses  that  were  patronised 
on  Sundays ;  and  the  trolley-car  which  passed  the  wood 
on  the  line  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away  had,  save 
for  himself,  been  empty. 

His  face  remained  grim  and  set  until  he  was  deep 
in  the  woods,  and  then  it  relaxed  to  a  wave  of  fury 
and  disgust,  finally  settled  into  an  expression  of  pro 
found  despair.  He  was  but  thirty-two,  and  the  prizes 
of  life  were  for  such  as  he,  and  a  week  later  he  would 
either  be  in  Sing  Sing  or  bound  without  hope  to  a 
woman  for  whom  his  brief  sentimentalised  passion  was 
dust. 

It  was  not  execution  he  feared,  for  any  clever  lawyer 
could  persuade  a  jury  into  a  certain  degree  of  leniency, 
but  long  years  in  prison  for  the  sake  of  a  dead  ideal. 
In  spite  of  his  hard  common  sense  and  severely  practical 


300  MRS.     BALFAME 

life  he  would  almost  have  welcomed  the  exaltation  of 
soul  which  must  accompany  a  great  sacrifice  impelled 
by  perfect  love.  But  to  turn  one's  back  on  life  for 
ever  and  walk  deliberately  into  a  dungeon,  change  one's 
name  for  a  number  and  become  a  thing,  for  the  sake 
of  barren  honour,  to  drag  out  his  years  with  a  dead  soul, 
to  despise  himself  for  a  fool,  too  old  and  too  tired  to 
console  himself  with  a  memory  of  a  duty  well  done, — 
he  felt  such  a  sudden  disgust  for  life  and  for  that  ill- 
regulated  product,  human  nature,  that  he  struck  a  heavy 
blow  at  a  tree  and  brought  a  shower  of  snow  about  his 
head. 

If  he  could  but  have  continued  to  love  the  woman 
and  accept  the  grim  and  bitter  fate  with  joy  in  his  soul ! 
And  if  only  that  were  the  worst!  If  he  could  turn  his 
back  on  life  with  no  regret  save  for  its  lost  opportuni 
ties  for  power  and  fame. 

He  paused  in  his  rapid  irregular  walk  and  pushed 
his  cap  up  from  his  ear.  He  half  swung  on  his  heel; 
then,  his  face  settling  into  its  familiar  lines,  he  walked 
slowly  toward  a  faint  crackling  that  had  arrested  his 
attention. 

He  came  presently  upon  the  glade  Alys  Crumley  had 
painted  in  its  summer  mood ;  the  little  picture  hung  fac 
ing  his  bed.  The  scene  was  white  to-day ;  all  the  lovely 
shades  of  green  and  gold  had  been  rubbed  out  and  re 
placed  with  the  bright  sparkle  of  snow,  and  the  brook 
was  frozen.  But  although  Rush  loved  the  winter 
woods  and  responded  to  their  white  appeal  as  keenly 
as  to  their  yearly  renewal  of  verdant  youth  and  gor 
geous  maturity,  they  left  him  quite  unmoved  at  this 
moment.  Alys  Crumley,  as  he  had  half  expected,  stood 
in  the  little  dell 


MRS.     BALFAME  301 

Her  face  was  more  like  old  ivory  than  ever  against 
the  dazzling  whiteness  of  the  snow  and  under  her  low 
fur  turban.  It  looked  both  pinched  and  nervous,  but 
she  kept  her  hands  in  her  muff.  Nor  did  Rush  remove 
his  from  his  pockets,  although  his  determination  not  to 
betray  himself  was  subconscious.  At  the  moment,  his 
mind,  conquering  a  tendency -to  race,  informed  itself 
merely  that  even  in  heavy  winter  clothes,  with  but  a 
deep  pink  rose  in  her  stole  for  colour,  she  managed  to 
look  dainty  and  alluring.  It  recalled  visions  of  her  on 
summer  nights  clad  in  the  soft  transparencies  of  lawn, 
with  ribbons  somewhere  that  always  brought  out  the 
strange  olive  tints  of  her  eyes  and  hair.  .  .  . 

"  I  followed  you,"  she  said. 

"Did  you?" 

"When  I  saw  you  pass  in  the  trolley,  I  guessed. 
The  Gifnings  had  invited  me  to  go  out  to  the  Club  with 
them.  I  asked  them  to  put  me  down  at  a  path  near 
here." 

He  made  no  reply  but  continued  to  stare  at  her,  re 
calling  other  pictures, —  in  the  studio,  in  the  green  liv 
ing-room, —  marvelling  at  her  endless  variety,  and  not 
only  of  effect.  Yet  she  was  always  the  same,  sur 
charged  with  the  magnetism  of  youth  and  young  wom 
anhood. 

"I  —  that  is  —  I  had  made  up  my  mind  I  must  have 
a  talk  with  you  about  certain  things.  You  said  you 
might  go  out  to  the  Club  to-day  for  an  hour  or  two  of 
hand-ball,  and  I  had  hoped  to  induce  you  to  come  home 
with  me  for  supper.  But  Jack  Battle  told  me  that  you 
had  telephoned  off  —  and  when  I  saw  you  in  the  trol 
ley,  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  your  face,  I  guessed  — '"' 

"Yes?" 


302  MRS.     BALFAME 

"  You  make  it  rather  hard." 

"  What  does  it  all  matter  ?  You  are  here,  and  I  am 
glad  that  you  are." 

"  Are  you  ?     But  you  intended  to  avoid  me  to-day !  " 

"  I  never  intended  to  see  you  alone  again  if  I  could 
help  it." 

"  I  guessed  that  too.  I  met  Polly  Cummack  this 
morning,  and  she  told  me  she  spent  last  evening  at  the 
jail  and  Mrs.  Balfame  confided  to  her  that  she  had 
just  definitely  promised  to  marry  you  .  .  .  that  you 
had  proposed  to  her  on  the  day  of  her  arrest,  and 
although  you  had  faithfully  obeyed  her  orders  and  not 
alluded  to  the  subject  since,  she  had  thought  it  only 
kind  to  put  you  out  of  suspense  yesterday.  She  naively 
added  that  the  subject  had  not  interested  her  when 
you  first  brought  it  up ;  but  that  you  had  been  so  won 
derful  and  devoted  since  .  .  .  She  means  to  settle 
quietly  in  New  York,  instead  of  travelling,  so  that  she 
can  be  quite  near  you,  and  she  will  marry  you  as  soon 
as  the  case  has  been  forgotten  by  the  public.  Of 
course,  Polly  could  not  keep  anything  so  interesting, 
and  no  doubt  it  is  all  over  town  by  now." 

Alys  spoke  steadily,  with  a  faint  ironic  inflection,  and 
she  held  her  head  very  high.  But  her  face  grew  more 
pinched,  and  the  delicate  pink  of  her  lips  faded. 

"  Yes  ?  "  He  had  turned  as  white  as  chalk,  but  there 
was  neither  dismay  nor  sarcasm  in  the  hard  stare  of  his 
eyes.  His  lips  were  folded  so  closely  that  the  word 
barely  escaped. 

"  I  am  going  to  say  everything  I  have  to  say,  if  you 
never  speak  to  me  again.  I  feel  as  if  I  were  standing 
on  the  point  of  a  high  rock  and  every  side  led  sheer 
down  into  an  abyss.  It  doesn't  matter  in  the  least 


MRS.     BALFAME  303 

down  which  side  I  fall.  There  is  a  certain  satisfac 
tion  in  that.  But  you  shall  listen." 

"  There  is  nothing  you  cannot  say  to  me." 

"  And  you'll  not  run  away." 

"  Oh,  no,  I'll  not  run  away !  I  shall  never  see  you 
again  if  I  can  help  it,  but  now  that  you  are  here  I  shall 
look  at  you  and  listen  to  the  sound  of  your  voice." 

"  And  to  what  I  have  to  say.  You  hate  Mrs.  Bal- 
fame.  You  are  bored  to  death  with  her.  You  are 
appalled.  You  have  found  her  out  for  what  she  is. 
You  are  going  to  marry  her  out  of  pity  and  because 
you  are  too  honourable  to  desert  a  woman  who  will  al 
ways  be  under  a  cloud,  even  if  you  had  it  in  you  to 
break  your  word;  and  because  you  have  a  twisted 
romantic  notion  about  being  true  to  an  old  if  mistaken 
ideal  —  one  of  a  set  that  has  flourished  like  hardy  old- 
fashioned  annuals  under  the  dry  soil  of  hustle  and  am 
bition  and  devotion  to  your  profession.  You  had 
fallen  in  love  —  or  thought  you  had,  which  amounts  to 
the  same  thing  for  the  moment  —  after  so  many  years 
of  dry  spiritual  celibacy,  and  it  had  been  a  wonderful 
revelation  —  and  an  inner  revolution  that  made  you 
immensely  interested  in  yourself  for  the  first  time. 
You  were  exalted;  you  lived  for  several  months  at  a 
pitch  above  the  normal,  automatically  registering  other 
impressions  but  only  half  cognisant  of  them.  And 
now  —  you  feel  that  to  the  love  born  in  delusion  and 
slain  by  truth  you  owe  the  greatest  sacrifice  a  man  can 
make." 

He  had  stared  at  the  ground  during  the  first  part 
of  her  speech,  and  then  raised  his  eyes  sharply,  his 
glance  changing  to  amazement  and  a  flush  mounting  to 
his  hair. 


304  MRS.     BALFAME 

"  Oh !  "  he  exclaimed.  But  he  would  make  no  other 
answer,  and  once  more  he  dropped  his  glance  to  the 
snow. 

"  Are  you  going  to  marry  her  ?  " 

"  If  she  is  acquitted." 

"And  if  not?"  Her  voice  broke  out  of  its  even 
register. 

He  made  an  abrupt  movement,  and  she  cried  out : 

"  I  know !  I  know !  Polly  told  me  —  Sam  tells  her 
everything.  He  suspects  you.  He  knows  that  Brod- 
erick  does.  But  you  don't  intend  to  wait  for  his  de 
nunciation.  Mrs.  Balfame  told  that  to  Polly  too. 
You  intend  to  say  you  did  it.  She  said  she  wouldn't 
let  you  —  oh,  wouldn't  she !  —  but  you  had  told  her 
that  you  would  make  up  a  plausible  story  and  stick  to  it. 
And  I  know  that  you  can't  prove  an  alibi.  Tell  me," — 
she  came  closer  and  her  voice  was  almost  threatening, 
: —  "  do  you  really  intend  to  take  that  crime  on  your 
shoulders  if  she  is  convicted." 

"  Yes." 

"  Oh !  Oh !  Men  will  be  sentimental  fools  until  — 
well,  so  long  as  they  are  born  of  fools  and  women. 
We  are  made  all  wrong!  She  threw  her  muff  on  the 
ground  and  beat  her  hands  together.  Her  eyes  were 
blazing.  There  was  a  curious  red  glow  in  their  olive 
depths.  "  Well,  listen  to  me :  You  are  not  going  to 
do  this  thing,  although  I  really  believe  you'd  like  to  do 
it  as  a  sort  of  penance.  She  could  not  prevent  such  a 
monstrous  sacrifice  if  she  would,  but  I  can.  Just  bear 
that  in  mind.  If  you  come  forward  with  any  such  in 
sane  proposition,  I  will  make  a  fool  of  you  before  all 
the  world.  If  Mrs.  Balfame  is  acquitted,  well  and 
good;  but  if  she  is  not,  then  I'll  betray  a  confidence 


MRS.     BALFAME  305 

and  run  the  risk  of  killing  some  one  myself  —  but  I'll 
get  the  truth.  Just  remember  that,  and  keep  off  the 
witness-stand." 

"  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  I  mean  that  I  know  where  to  get  the  truth." 

"  You  mean  that  Dr.  Anna  thinks  Mrs.  Balfame  did 
it  —  that  Mrs.  Balfame  confessed  to  her  and  that  you 
can  make  the  poor  woman  betray  her  friend  while  she 
is  still  too  weak  to  resist.  Well,  you  are  all  wrong. 
I  know  that  Mrs.  Balfame  did  not  kill  Balfame.  If 
you  want  the  reason  for  my  knowledge, —  and  I  know 
I  can  trust  you, —  Mrs.  Balfame  was  out  that  night, 
and  she  did  take  a  revolver  and  fire  it.  I  found  it  in 
the  house  on  the  night  following  her  arrest.  It  was 
a  thirty-eight.  There  was  one  bullet  missing.  It  was 
found  in  the  tree.  Balfame  was  killed  by  a  forty-one. 
She  did  not  go  out  to  shoot  Balfame,  but  because  she 
thought  she  saw  a  burglar  in  the  grove.  Her  revolver 
went  off  accidentally  —  and  she  is  the  best  shot  out 
at  the  Club.  But  you  will  readily  understand  my  rea 
sons  for  suppressing  these  facts." 

Alys  had  turned  her  profile  and  was  staring  at  a  tree 
whose  limbs  creaked  now  and  again  with  their  weight 
of  snow,  sending  down  a  powdery  shower.  Her  thick 
short  lashes  were  almost  together  before  a  gleaming 
line  of  olive. 

"  Oh !     Who  was  her  confederate?  " 

"  She  hasn't  the  least  idea  as  to  the  identity  of  the 
person  beside  her.  It  was  dark,  and  she  was  too  much 
excited.  Naturally,  she  would  be  very  glad  to  know." 

"  Well,  suppose  we  dismiss  that  part  of  it.  We 
should  never  get  anywhere.  Only  —  don't  take  the 
stand  and  make  a  dramatic  confession." 


306  MRS.     BALFAME 

"Dramatic?"  Once  more  the  red  tide  rose.  His 
blue  eyes  snapped. 

"  Melodramatic  would  perhaps  be  the  better  word. 
Sarah  and  I  are  hot  on  the  trail  of  the  right  word. 
But  tell  me  honestly  —  shouldn't  you  feel  rather  a  fool  ? 
It  is  such  a  very  theatric  —  stagey  —  thing  to  do." 

"  Oh !  "  He  wheeled  about  and  kicked  a  fallen  log. 
"  Do  you  suppose  I  have  given  a  thought  to  that  aspect 
of  it?" 

"  No,  more  is  the  pity,  but  as  you  have  a  good  sense 
of  humour,  I  rather  wonder  at  it.  However  —  these 
are  not  the  only  things  I  followed  you  into  the  woods  to 
say." 

"  You  had  it  in  your  mind,  then,  to  find  out  if  what 
Mrs.  Balfame  told  Mrs.  Cummack  was  true  —  that  I 
purposed  to  free  her  one  way  or  another?  " 

"  Yes.  I  merely  waited  for  the  lead.  I  told  you  in 
the  beginning  that  I  did  not  care  what  I  might  confess 
to,  or  how  angry  I  made  you.  What  does  it  matter  ?  " 

"  You  cannot  make  me  angry,  although  there  are 
some  things  I  cannot  discuss  with  you." 

"Of  course  not.  Let  us  ignore  Possible  Sacrifice 
Number  Two,  and  assume  that  Mrs.  Balfame  is  ac 
quitted, —  which  no  doubt  will  be  the  case;  few  are 
worrying;  and  further  assume  that  you  will  marry  her; 
that  she  will  marry  you  is  the  way  she  put  it,  not  being 
an  artist  in  words.  Once  more  we  will  dismiss  both 
subjects.  Yes?" 

She  was  stooping  to  recover  her  muff,  and  he  noticed 
that  her  hands  were  shaking  and  that  the  dusky  pink 
was  in  her  cheeks  for  the  first  time. 

"  I  am  only  too  ready.  But  —  there  is  little  else  for 
us  to  talk  about !  " 


MRS.    BALFAME  307 

"  Yes,  there  is !  When  people  are  on  their  death 
beds  they  can  afford  to  be  .truthful,  and  you  have  dug 
your  grave  and  mine." 

She  was  erect  once  more  and  she  looked  at  him 
steadily,  although  her  breath  was  short  and  her  cheeks 
blazing. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that?  "  His  eyes  no  longer 
looked  like  blue  steel.  They  were  flashing,  and  a 
curious  wave  of  mobility  passed  over  his  face. 

"  I  mean  that  you  love  me  now.  I  think  you  always 
loved  me  —  when  we  spent  so  many  hours  together  in 
perfect  companionship  —  when  you  found  so  much  in 
me  that  responded  to  so  many  of  your  own  needs. 
But  for  the  time  being  this  was  only  a  surface  im 
pression.  It  was  unable  to  strike  down  to  —  to  your 
soul,  because  between  your  outer  and  inner  vision  was 
the  delusion.  You  had  cherished  some  sort  of  ideal 
since  boyhood,  and  when  for  the  first  time  in  your  busy 
life  you  met  a  woman  who  seemed  to  materialise  it  — 
you  never  once  had  a  half -hour's  conversation  with 
her !  —  you  automatically  rose  to  the  opportunity  to 
discharge  a  youthful  obligation.  Isn't  that  true?  " 

He  would  not  answer,  and  she  continued : 

"  You  passed  me  over  because  you  had  to  be  rid 
of  the  delusion  first,  bag  and  baggage.  There  is  only 
one  way  to  get  rid  of  an  old  delusion  like  that,  and 
unconsciously  you  took  it!  The  pity  of  it  is,  in  our 
case,  that  you  compromised  yourself  so  promptly,  in 
stead  of  waiting  —  well,  for  ten  weeks !  " 

"  I  had  already  asked  Mrs.  Balfame  to  get  a  divorce 
and  marry  me." 

"  Oh !  That  night  you  walked  home  with  her  from 
Dr.  Anna's  cottage  ?" 


3o8  MRS.     BALFAME 

"  You  saw  us  ?     Yes,  that  was  the  time." 

"  The  first  time  you  had  ever  talked  alone  with  her  ? 
I  know  that  you  dined  there  often,  but  didn't  Dave 
usually  do  the  talking?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  Mrs.  Balfame  smiled  like  St.  Cecilia  and  at 
tended  to  your  wants." 

"Oh!" 

"  It  was  like  you  to  think  you  couldn't  go  back  on 
even  an  Elsinore  Avenue  flirtation.  But  once  more  — 
it  is  a  terrible  pity  that  you  did  not  delay  your  formal 
offer  for  ten  weeks.  Then  you  would  have  buried  the 
last  and  the  supreme  folly  of  your  youth  —  with  a 
sigh  perhaps,  but  you  would  have  buried  it.  Isn't  that 
true?" 

"  It  is  true  that  something  incredibly  youthful  seems 
to  have  persisted  in  me  beyond  its  proper  limits,  and 
then  to  have  died  abruptly.  God  knows  I  have  no 
youth  in  me  to-day." 

"  That  may  well  be,  but  it  need  not  have  been. 
Youth  does  not  die  with  the  earlier  illusions.  If  all 
had  gone  well,  you  would  have  been  reborn  into  a  saner 
and  more  conscious  youth.  Tell  me — "  Her  voice 
trembled,  but  she  moved  forward  resolutely  and  laid 
her  muff  against  his  chest;  he  could  feel  the  working 
of  her  hands,  and  eyes  and  cheeks  betrayed  the  excite 
ment  that  pride  still  suppressed.  "  Tell  me, —  if  you 
had  waited,  if  you  could  have  decently  buried  that  old 
illusion  and  forgotten  —  and  —  and  married  me,- — 
should  you  have  felt  very  old  ?  " 

"  I  should  have  felt  immortal." 

He  caught  her  hands  from  her  muff  and  flung  them 
about  his  neck  and  lifted  her  from  the  ground  and 


MRS.     BALFAME  309 

kissed  her  as  if  they  both  stood  on  the  pinnacle  and 
had  but  a  moment  before  plunging  down  to  mortal 
death. 

When  he  released  her  a  trifle,  his  face  was  illumi 
nated.  It  no  longer  looked  preternaturally  strong; 
neither  did  it  look  as  young  as  she  had  seen  it  look  in 
moments  of  mental  relaxation. 

"  Ah !  "  she  whispered.  "  This  is  the  fusing,  not 
when  that  old  illusion  died." 

The  deep  flush  ebbed  out  of  his  face,  leaving  it  grey, 
but  he  did  not  relax  the  hard  pressure  of  his  arms. 
"Of  what  use/'  he  asked  bitterly,  "  when  we  have  only 
to-day?" 

"  It  is  something  to  realise  all  of  oneself  if  only  for 
an  hour.  And  you  have  given  me  my  supreme  hour. 
That  was  my  right,  for  I  went  down  into  such  depths 
as  you  have  no  knowledge  of ;  and  if  I  struggled  out  of 
them  alone,  and  always  in  terror  of  surrender  and 
demoralisation  at  the  last  moment,  I  have  my  claim 
on  your  help  now,  for  the  future  is  something  I  have 
never  dared  to  face.  I  guessed  before  Polly  told  me  — 
oh,  I  guessed!  I  knew  you  so  well.  In  dreams,  per 
haps, —  who  knows  ?  —  our  minds  may  have  become 
one.  When  I  came  up  out  of  —  got  past  the  worst,  it 
seemed  to  me  that  I  came  into  an  extraordinary  under 
standing  of  you.  I  can  bear  anything  now.  In  a  way, 
you  will  always  be  mine.  The  life  of  the  imagination 
must  have  its  satisfactions.  There  are  worse  things 
than  living  alone." 

She  drew  down  his  head,  but  this  time  she  put  her 
lips  to  his  ear. 

"  Now  I  am  going  to  tell  you  a  terrible  secret," 
she  said. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

THERE  had  been  a  crowd  on  the  day  of  Frieda's 
and  young  Kraus'  testimony,  but  on  Monday 
morning  there  was  a  mob.  The  road  as  well  as  the 
open  space  before  the  Courthouse  was  as  solid  a  mass 
of  automobiles  as  the  police  would  permit,  and  within, 
even  the  wide  staircase  was  packed  with  people,  many 
from  New  York  City,  waving  cards  and  demanding 
entrance  to  the  Court-room,  or  at  least  the  freedom  to 
breathe. 

The  sheriff  and  his  assistants,  soon  after  the  doors 
were  opened,  succeeded  in  forming  a  lane,  and  dragged 
the  women  reporters  to  the  upper  landing.  They 
found  the  young  men  at  their  tables,  cool,  imperturb 
able,  having  entered  through  the  library  at  the  back 
of  the  Court-room.  All  doors  were  closed  before  ten 
o'clock,  and  the  crowd  without,  save  only  the  few  that 
were  fortunate  enough  to  have  come  early  and  obtain 
a  vantage  point  against  the  glass,  gradually  dwindled 
away,  to  renew  the  assault  after  luncheon.  It  was  not 
only  the  brilliant  winter  day  that  had  enticed  the  curious 
over  from  New  York,  but  the  rumour  that  Mrs.  Bal- 
fame  would  take  the  stand. 

The  morning  droned  along  peacefully.  Cummack 
and  several  others,  including  Mr.  Mott,  were  recalled 
and  questioned  further.  Rush  made  no  interruptions 
whatever.  The  Judge  yawned  behind  his  hand.  The 
women  reporters  whispered  to  one  another  that  Mrs. 

310 


MRS.     BALFAME  311 

Balfame  looked  lovelier  than  ever  —  only  different, 
somehow.  Even  Mr.  Broderick  looked  at  her  uneasily 
once  or  twice  and  confided  to  Mr.  Wagstaff  that  he  be 
lieved  she  and  Rush  had  something  up  their  sleeves; 
she  no  longer  looked  like  a  marble  effigy  of  herself, 
but  like  a  woman  who  was  sure  of  getting  w7hat  she 
wanted  —  much  too  sure.  Her  cheeks  were  almost 
pink.  That  was  as  close  as  he  could  get  to  the  up 
heavals  and  revolutions  that  had  taken  place  in  Mrs. 
Balfame  of  Elsinore,  and  their  causes. 

Immediately  after  luncheon,  Rush  showed  the  jury 
Defendant's  Exhibit  A:  the  suitcase  that  Mrs.  Bal 
fame  had  packed  for  her  husband  after  his  telephone 
message  from  the  house  of  Mr.  Cummack.  He  dem 
onstrated  that  it  must  have  been  packed  by  a  firm  hand 
guided  by  a  clear  head,  a  head  as  far  as  possible  from 
that  cyclonic  condition  technically  known  as  "  brain 
storm."  When  he  read  them  the  explicit  directions 
Mrs.  Balfame  had  written  for  the  velvet  handbag  her 
generous  husband  had  offered  to  bring  from  Albany, 
the  jury  craned  its  neck  and  puckered  its  brows.  This 
suitcase  had  been  examined  on  the  night  of  the  crime 
by  police  and  reporters,  the  cynical  men  of  the  press 
characterising  it  later  as  a  grand  piece  of  bluff.  But  it 
looked  very  convincing  in  a  court-room,  and  its  inno 
cent  appeal  was  thrown  into  high  relief  by  the  indisput 
able  fact  that  the  murder  had  been  committed  at  least 
half  an  hour  later. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  was  reason  to  believe  that 
Mrs.  Balfame  had  deliberately  planned  the  shooting 
and  in  that  case  it  was  quite  natural  for  her  to  prepare 
something  in  the  nature  of  an  alibi  —  that  is,  if  a 
woman,  and  an  amateur  in  crime,  could  exercise  so 


312  MRS.     BALFAME 

much  foresight.  The  jury  looked  at  the  defendant 
out  of  the  corner  of  its  eye.  Well,  she,  at  least,  looked 
cool  enough  for  anything. 

Then  came  the  great  moment  for  which  the  specta 
tors  had  braved  discomfort,  indignities,  and  even  hun 
ger.  The  counsel  for  the  defence  asked  Mrs.  Balfame 
to  take  the  stand. 

Everybody  in  the  court-room  save  the  Judge,  the 
jury,  and  the  cool  young  reporters  half  rose  as  she 
walked  rapidly  behind  the  jury-box,  mounted  the  stand, 
took  the  oath,  bowed  to  the  Court  and  arranged  her 
self,  with  her  usual  dignified  aloofness,  in  the  witness- 
chair.  She  felt  but  a  slight  quiver  of  the  nerves,  no 
apprehension  whatever.  She  knew  her  story  too  well 
to  be  disconcerted  even  by  the  sudden  wasp-like  assaults 
of  the  district  attorney,  and  she  was  sensible  of  the 
moral  support  of  practically  all  the  women  in  the  room. 

Rush  asked  her  to  tell  her  story  in  her  own  way  to 
the  jury,  and  for  a  time  the  district  attorney  permitted 
her  to  talk  without  interruption.  Rush  had  warned 
her  after  the  interview  with  the  women  reporters 
against  delivering  herself  with  too  tripping  a  tongue, 
and  his  assistant  had  spent  several  hours  with  her  in 
rehearsal  of  certain  improvements  upon  a  too  perfect 
style.  In  consequence,  she  told  a  clear  coherent  story, 
in  the  simplest  manner  possible,  with  little  dramatic 
breaks  or  hesitations  now  and  again,  but  with  nothing 
stronger  than  a  quaver  in  her  sweet  shallow  voice. 
When  she  had  reached  the  episode  of  the  filter  and 
had  explained  to  the  inquisitive  district  attorney  why 
she  had  made  no  mention  at  the  coroner's  inquest  of 
the  somewhat  complicated  episode  of  which  it  was  the 
pivot,  so  to  speak,  she  gave  the  same  credible  explana- 


MRS.     BALFAME  313 

tion  the  newspaper  women  had  already  offered  to  the 
public;  and  then,  quite  unexpectedly,  she  related  the 
story  of  Frieda's  attempt  to  blackmail  her,  and  her  in 
dignant  refusal  to  give  the  creature  a  dollar.  Mr.  Gore 
shouted  in  vain.  The  Judge  ordered  him  to  keep  quiet 
and  permitted  the  defendant  to  tell  the  story  in  her  own 
way. 

Mrs.  Balfame  apologised  to  the  jury  for  relating  this 
incident  out  of  order,  and  then  went  on  with  her  quiet 
plausible  story.  Her  reason  for  not  running  out  at 
once  was  simplicity  itself.  She  must  have  been  in  the 
kitchen  when  the  shot  was  fired;  she  had  not  made  a 
point  of  regulating  her  movements  by  the  clock  as  some 
of  the  witnesses  for  the  prosecution  appeared  to  have 
done,  so  that  she  was  quite  unable  to  give  the  jury 
positive  information  upon  the  subject  of  the  exact  num 
ber  of  minutes  she  had  remained  in  the  kitchen.  She 
had  washed  and  put  away  the  glass,  of  course ;  she  was 
a  very  methodical  woman.  Then  she  had  gone  up 
stairs,  leisurely,  and  it  was  not  until  she  was  in  her  bed 
room  that  she  became  aware  of  some  sort  of  excitement 
out  in  the  Avenue.  Even  that  conveyed  nothing  to 
her,  for  it  was  Saturday  night  —  she  curled  her  fas 
tidious  lip.  But  when  she  heard  voices  directly  under 
her  window,  inside  the  grounds,  she  threw  it  open  at 
once  and  asked  what  had  happened.  Then  of  course 
she  ran  downstairs  and  out  to  her  husband.  That 
was  all. 

Even  the  district  attorney  was  not  able  to  interject  a 
hint  of  the  lemonade  story,  and  so,  naturally,  she  ig 
nored  it. 

"  Gemima !  "  whispered  Mr.  Broderick  to  his  neigh 
bour,  "  but  she  is  a  wonder !  I  never  heard  it  better 


3H  MRS.    BALFAME 

done,  and  I've  seen  some  of  the  boss  liars  on  the  stand. 
She  looks  like  an  angel  on  toast,  a  poor,  sweet,  patient, 
martyr  angel.  But  111  bet  five  dollars  to  a  nickel  that 
she  was  just  about  three  degrees  too  plausible  for  that 
jury.  If  she  didn't  do  it,  who  did?  That's  what 
they'll  ask.  And  who  else  wanted  him  out  of  the  way? 
Have  you  given  any  thought  to  that  proposition?" 
His  voice  was  almost  as  steady  as  his  keen  grey  eyes, 
and  he  looked  straight  into  the  wise  and  weary  orbs  of 
a  brilliant  but  too  inabstinent  member  of  the  crack  re 
porter  regiment  who  had  been  missing  for  several  days. 
The  man  raised  his  sagging  shoulders  and  dropped 
them  listlessly.  Then  his  heavy  eyes  were  invaded  by 
a  sudden  gleam. 

"  Say,"  he  whispered,  "  that  Rush  is  a  good-looking 
chap  —  and  she  —  I  don't  like  those  ice-boxes  myself, 
but  some  men  do.  It's  crossed  my  mind  more  than 
once  to-day  that  he's  got  something  on  his  —  what's  the 
matter?" 

"  For  God's  sake,  hush ! "  Broderick's  low  voice 
was  savage,  his  face  white.  "  They're  always  likely  to 
say  that  about  a  young  lawyer  when  his  client  is  hand 
some  enough  and  their  imaginations  are  excited  by  a 
mysterious  murder  case.  He's  a  friend  of  mine,  and  I 
don't  want  him  to  get  into  trouble.  He  might  not 
be  able  to  prove  an  alibi.  But  I  know  he  didn't  do  it 
because  I  happen  to  know  that  he  is  in  love  with  an 
other  woman.  I  was  in  the  same  trolley  with  them 
yesterday  when  they  came  back  from  the  woods. 
There  was  no  mistaking  how  the  land  lay." 

"  Oh !  Just  so !  "  The  other  man's  eyes  were  glit 
tering.  He  looked  like  a  hunter  glancing  down  his 
gun-barrel.  "  I  see  he  is  a  friend  of  yours  and  youVe 


MRS.    BALFAME  315 

got  his  defence  pat  —  well,  I'm  not  going  to  bother  my 
poor  head  until  Mrs.  B.  is  acquitted  or  convicted.  Ta ! 
Ta !  "  And  he  slid  gently  to  the  floor,  laid  his  head 
against  the  infuriated  Broderick's  knee  and  went  to 
sleep. 

"  I  say,"  whispered  Wagstaff,  "  she  almost  involved 
young  Kraus,  all  right.  He's  never  been  quite  so  close 
to  the  bull's-eye  before.  The  very  fact  that  she  didn't 
trump  up  a  yarn  —  or  Rush  wouldn't  let  her  —  that 
she  saw  him  when  she  opened  the  door,  or  that  he  had 
turned  the  handle,  is  one  for  her  and  one  on  him." 

The  Judge,  who  had  taken  a  few  moments'  rest,  re- 
entered,  and  conversation  ceased.  Conrad  and  ^rieda 
were  called  in  rebuttal,  and  encouraged  to  fix  the  time 
of  Mrs.  Balfame's  departure  and  return  as  accurately 
as  might  be.  Frieda  asserted  that  Mrs.  Balfame,  after 
closing  the  outer  door,  had  not  remained  below-stairs 
for  more  than  three  minutes,  and  Conrad  declared  that 
her  exit  must  have  been  made  three  or  four  before 
Mr.  Mott  left  Miss  Lacke's.  Of  course  —  with  quiet 
scorn  —  he  had  not  looked  at  his  watch.  How  could 
he  in  the  dark?  As  he  did  not  smoke  he  had  no 
matches  in  his  pocket. 

That  closed  the  day's  session.  The  jury  filed  out, 
and  no  man  could  read  aught  in  their  weather-beaten 
faces  save  the  conviction  that  the  Paradise  City  Hotel 
was  a  haven  of  delights  after  a  long  day  in  the  box, 
and  they  were  quite  equal  to  the  feat  of  enjoying  the 
dinner  served  there,  with  minds  barren  of  the  grim  pur 
pose  behind  this  luxurious  week. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

IT  was  nearly  six  o'clock.  The  court-room  with 
its  round  white  ceiling  looked  like  a  crypt  in  the 
soft  glow  of  the  artificial  light,  and  the  Judge,  in  his 
black  silk  gown,  with  his  handsome  patrician  face, 
clean-cut  but  rather  soft  and  flushed  with  good  living, 
might  have  been  an  abbot  seated  aloft  in  judgment 
upon  a  recalcitrant  nun.  Mrs.  Balfame  in  her  crepe 
completed  the  delusion  —  if  the  imaginative  spectator 
glanced  no  further.  The  district  attorney,  who  was 
summing  up,  looked  more  like  a  wasp  than  ever  as  he 
darted  back  and  forth  in  front  of  the  jury-box,  shout 
ing  and  shaking  his  fists.  Occasionally  he  would  hook 
his  fingers  in  his  waistcoat,  balance  himself  on  his  heels 
and  with  a  mere  moderation  of  his  rasping  tones,  dem 
onstrate  a  contemptuous  faith  in  the  strength  of  his 
case. 

It  is  to  be  admitted  that  his  arguments  and  exposi 
tions,  his  denunciations  and  satirical  refutations,  were 
quite  as  convincing  as  those  of  the  counsel  for  the  de 
fence  had  been,  such  being  the  elasticity  of  the  law  and 
of  the  legal  mind;  but  although  an  able  and  powerful 
speaker,  he  lacked  the  personal  charm  and  magnetism, 
the  almost  tragical  enthusiasm  and  conviction,  alternat 
ing  with  cold  deliberate  logic,  that  had  thrilled  all  pres 
ent  to  the  roots  of  their  beings  during  the  long  hours 
of  the  morning.  Rush,  whether  he  lost  or  won,  had 

316 


MRS.     BALFAME  317 

made  his  reputation  as  one  of  the  greatest  pleaders  ever 
heard  at  the  bar  of  New  York  State.  He  had  finished 
at  a  quarter  to  one.  Immediately  after  the  opening  of 
the  afternoon  session  Gore  had  darted  into  the  breach, 
speaking  with  a  dramatic  rapidity  for  four  hours.  He 
sat  down  at  six  o'clock;  and  Mrs.  Balfame  felt  as  if 
turning  to  stone  while  the  Judge,  standing,  charged  the 
jury  and  expounded  the  law  covering  the  three  degrees 
of  murder:  first,  second,  manslaughter.  It  was  their 
privilege  to  convict  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  of  any  of 
these,  unless  convinced  of  her  innocence. 

He  dwelt  at  length  upon  the  degree  called  manslaugh 
ter,  as  if  the  idea  had  occurred  to  him  that  Mrs.  Bal 
fame,  justly  indignant,  had  run  out  when  she  heard  her 
husband's  voice  raised  in  song,  and  had  fired  from  the 
grove  by  way  of  administering  a  rebuke  to  an  erring 
and  inconsiderate  man.  The  second  bullet  had  been 
made  much  of  by  Rush,  as  indicating  that  two  people, 
possibly  gun-men,  had  shot  at  once,  but  the  district  at 
torney  held  no  such  theory  and  had  ignored  the  bullet 
found  in  the  tree.  It  was  apparent,  however,  that  the 
Judge  had  given  to  this  second  bullet  a  certain  amount 
of  judicial  consideration. 

The  jury  filed  out,  not  to  their  luxurious  quarters 
in  the  Paradise  City  Hotel,  a  mile  away,  but  to  a  stark 
and  ugly  room  in  the  Court-house  where  they  must  re 
main  in  acute  discomfort  until  they  arrived  at  a  ver 
dict.  The  Judge  had  his  dinner  brought  to  him  in  a 
private  room  adjoining  theirs,  and  even  the  reporters 
and  spectators  snatched  a  hasty  meal  at  the  Dobton 
hostelry,  so  sure  were  they  all  that  the  jury  would  re 
turn  within  the  hour.  Mrs.  Balfame  did  not  take  off 
her  hat  with  its  heavy  veil,  but  sat  in  her  quarters  at 


318  MRS.    BALFAME 

the  jail  with  several  of  her  friends,  outwardly  calm,  but 
with  her  mind  on  the  rack  and  unable  to  share  the  din 
ner  sent  over  from  the  Inn  by  Mr.  Cummack  for  her 
self  and  her  guests. 

The  hours  passed,  however,  and  the  jury  did  not  re 
turn.  Once  the  head  of  the  foreman  emerged,  and  the 
sheriff,  misunderstanding  his  surly  demand  for  a 
pitcher  of  ice  water,  rushed  over  for  Mrs.  Balfame,  the 
Judge  was  summoned,  and  the  reporters,  men  and 
women,  raced  one  another  up  the  Court-house  stairs. 
Mrs.  Balfame,  schooled  to  the  awful  ordeal  of  hearing 
herself  pronounced  a  murderess  in  one  form  or  other, 
but  bidden  by  her  friends  to  augur  an  acquittal  from 
a  mere  three  hours'  deliberation,  walked  in  with  her 
usual  quiet  remoteness  and  took  her  seat.  She  was 
sent  back  at  once. 

Rush  paced  the  road  in  front  of  the  Court-house. 
He  had  little  hope.  He  had  studied  their  faces  day  by 
day  and  believed  that  several,  at  least,  were  persuaded 
of  Mrs.  Balfame's  guilt.  Mrs.  Battle,  Mrs.  Gifning 
and  Mrs.  Cummack  sat  with  Mrs.  Balfame,  who  found 
the  effort  to  maintain  the  high  equilibrium  demanded 
by  her  admiring  friends  as  rasping  an  ordeal  to  her 
nerves  as  waiting  for  that  final  summons  whose  men 
ace  grew  with  every  hour  the  jury  wrangled.  Finally 
she  took  off  her  hat  and  suggested  that  they  knit,  and 
the  needles  clicked  through  the  desultory  conversation 
until,  after  midnight,  they  all  attempted  to  sleep. 

The  Judge  extended  himself  on  a  sofa  in  the  private 
room  devoted  to  his  use ;  he  dared  not  leave  the  Court 
house.  He  told  the  district  attorney  (who  told  it  to 
the  sheriff,  who  told  it  to  the  reporters)  that  the  jury 
quarrelled  so  persistently  and  so  violently  that  he  found 


MRS.    BALFAME  319 

it  impossible  to  sleep,  and  that  the  language  they  used 
was  appalling. 

Midnight  came  and  passed.  The  sob-sisters,  worn 
out,  went  home.  Miss  Sarah  Austin  and  Miss  Alys 
Crumley  had  not  returned  to  the  Court-house  after  din 
ner.  The  sheriff  appeared  at  the  entrance  of  the  court 
room  and  announced  that  the  last  trolley  would  leave 
for  Elsinore  and  neighbouring  towns  within  five  min 
utes.  Most  of  the  spectators  filed  sleepily  out.  A  few 
of  Mrs.  Bal fame's  less  intimate  but  equally  devoted 
friends  remained  in  their  seats  near  her  empty  chair, 
and  shortly  after  midnight  the  warden's  wife  brought 
them  over  hot  coffee  and  sandwiches. 

The  reporters,  having  long  since  consumed  all  the 
chocolate  and  peanuts  on  sale  below,  strolled  back  and 
forth  between  the  Court-house  and  the  bar  of  the  Dob- 
ton  Inn.  They  were  bored  and  indignant  and  sought 
the  only  consolation  available.  They  returned  peri 
odically  to  the  court-room,  growing,  as  the  hours 
passed,  more  formal,  polite,  silent.  One  lost  his  way 
in  the  jury-box  and  was  steered  by  a  court  official  to 
the  sympathetic  haven  of  his  brothers. 

The  room  itself,  its  floor  littered  with  tinfoil,  pea 
nut-shells,  and  newspapers,  its  tables  and  chairs  out  of 
place,  looked  like  a  Coney  Island  excursion  boat. 
Finally  two  reporters  laid  their  heads  down  on  a  table 
and  went  to  sleep,  but  the  rest  continued  to  address 
one  another  at  long  intervals,  in  distant  tones,  obeying 
the  laws  of  etiquette,  but  with  a  secret  and  scornful  re 
luctance. 

Broderick,  who  was  reasonably  sober,  had  wandered 
in  and  out  many  times.  Occasionally  he  walked  the 
road  with  Rush,  and  more  than  once  he  had  endeav- 


320  MRS.    BALFAME 

cured  to  get  Miss  Crumley  on  the  telephone.  He  had 
even  telephoned  to  the  hospital  to  ascertain  if  she  were 
there.  A  week  ago  only  he  had  accidentally  discovered 
that  Dr.  Anna  had  been  summoned  by  Mrs.  Balfame 
shortly  after  the  murder  and  had  passed  many  hours 
alone  with  her ;  "  it  being  the  deuce  and  all  to  extract 
any  information  from  that  closed  corporation  of  Mrs. 
Balfame's  friends."  Broderick  had  surprised  it  out 
of  a  group  at  the  Elks'  Club  in  the  course  of  conversa 
tion  and  then  had  set  his  phenomenal  memory  to  work, 
with  the  result  that  he  was  convinced  Alys  Crumley 
held  the  key  to  the  whole  situation.  He  had  gone  to 
her  house  and  pleaded  with  her  to  take  him  out  to  the 
hospital  and  obtain  a  statement  from  the  sick  woman 
before  it  was  too  late,  representing  in  powerful  and 
picturesque  language  the  awful  peril  of  Rush. 

"  I've  reason  to  know,"  he  had  concluded,  "  that 
Cummack  and  two  or  three  others  have  their  sus 
picions,  and  there  isn't  a  question  that  if  the  jury  brings 
in  a  verdict  of  guilty  in  any  degree  —  and  they're  a  pig 
headed  lot  —  Rush  will  be  arrested  at  once.  These 
devoted  friends  of  Mrs.  Balfame  have  accumulated 
enough  evidence  to  begin  on.  He  may  have  gone  to 
Brooklyn  that  night,  but  he  was  seen  to  get  off  the 
train  at  Elsinore  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  the 
shooting.  They've  been  doing  a  lot  of  quiet  sleuthing, 
but  if  Mrs.  Balfame  is  acquitted  they'll  let  him  off. 
They  don't  want  any  more  scandal,  and  they  like  him, 
anyhow.  But  I  have  a  hunch  she  won't  be  acquitted ; 
and  then,  innocent  or  guilty,  there'd  be  no  saving  him. 
So  for  heaven's  sake,  stir  yourself." 

But  Alys  had  replied :  "  I  have  besought  my  aunt, 
and  she  will  not  permit  Dr.  Anna  to  be  disturbed.  She 


MRS.    BALFAME  321 

says  her  only  chance  for  life  is  a  tranquil  mind,  and 
that  the  shock  of  hearing  that  Enid  Balfame  was  on 
trial  for  murder  would  kill  her  —  let  alone  asking  her 
to  do  her  best  to  send  her  to  the  chair.  I've  done  my 
best,  but  it  seems  hopeless/' 

This  conversation  had  taken  place  on  Thursday. 
To-day  was  Tuesday.  They  were  very  reticent  at  the 
hospital,  but  he  had  reason  to  believe  that  Dr.  Anna  had 
taken  a  turn  for  the  worse.  Could  Alys  Crumley  be 
out  there,  and  could  she  have  taken  that  minx  Sarah 
Austin  with  her?  It  would  be  just  like  a  girl  to  go 
back  on  a  good  pal  like  himself  and  hand  a  signal  tri 
umph  over  to  another  girl,  who  would  get  out  of  the 
game  the  minute  some  fellow  with  money  enough  of 
fered  to  marry  her.  He  ground  his  teeth. 

He  was  standing  near  the  doors  of  the  court-room 
and  staring  at  the  clock  whose  hands  pointed  to  a  quar 
ter  to  one.  Suddenly  he  heard  his  name  called  from 
below.  He  sauntered  out  and  leaned  over  the  balus 
trade.  A  weary  page  was  ascending  when  he  caught 
sight  of  the  star  reporter. 

"  Brabant  Hospital  wants  you  on  the  'phone,"  he  an 
nounced,  with  supreme  indifference. 

Broderick  leaped  down  the  winding  stair  and  into  the 
booth.  It  seemed  to  him  that  his  very  ears  were 
quivering  as  he  listened  to  Alys  Crumley's  faint  agi 
tated  voice.  "  Come  out  quickly  and  bring  a  stenog 
rapher,"  it  said.  "  And  suppose  you  ask  Mr.  Rush  to 
come  too.  Just  tell  the  sheriff  —  to  —  to  postpone 
things  a  bit  if  the  jury  should  be  ready  to  come  in  be 
fore  you  return.  Hurry,  Jim,  hurry." 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

IT  was  two  o'clock  and  ten  minutes.  The  eleven  re 
maining  spectators,  one  of  them  a  woman  in  even 
ing  dress,  were  sound  asleep.  The  sheriff  was  pacing 
up  and  down  with  his  hands  behind  his  back,  his  per 
turbed  glance  ranging  between  the  clock  and  the  door 
leading  into  the  jury-room.  Occasionally  he  slipped  on 
a  bit  of  the  debris  and  kicked  it  aside.  The  reporters 
slumbered  at  their  tables  or  stared  moodily  ahead. 
One  gnawed  his  pencil;  another  tore  leaves  of  copy 
paper  into  morsels  and  laboriously  built  something  that 
looked  like  a  child's  house  of  blocks.  Outside  it 
was  deathly  still.  The  snow  was  falling  softly.  It 
was  too  early  for  a  cock-crow.  Occasionally  some  one 
snored.  The  footfalls  of  the  sheriff  made  no  noise. 

Suddenly  every  reporter  present  sat  up  with  the 
scent  of  blood  in  his  nostrils.  Their  ears  twitched. 
The  fumes  blew  out  of  their  highly  organised  brains 
like  mist  before  a  bracing  wind.  An  automobile  was 
dashing  down  the  road,  its  horn  shrieking  a  series  of 
brief  peremptory  notes,  which  sounded  like  "  Wait ! 
Wait!  Wait!" 

It  came  to  an  abrupt  halt  before  the  Court-house 
door,  and  almost  simultaneously  Wagstaff,  who  had 
wandered  forth  once  more,  ran  up  the  stairs  and  into 
the  court-room. 

"There's  something  in  the  wind,  boys,"  he  cried, 

322 


MRS.     B  A  L  F  A  M  E  323 

smoothing  his  hair  and  steering  carefully  for  his  chair. 
"  Rush,  Broderick,  three  other  men,  Sarah  Austin  and 
Alys  Crumley,  were  in  that  car.  They've  all  gone 
straight  to  the  Judge.  Something  big  is  going  to 
break,  as  sure  as  death." 

The  sheriff  retired  hastily  to  the  region  behind  the 
court-room. 

The  young  men  adjusted  their  chairs,  arranged  their 
copy-paper  neatly,  and  sharpened  their  pencils.  Mrs. 
Bal  fame's  friends  went  forward  to  the  door  behind  the 
jury-box  which  led  to  the  tunnel.  Even  the  sleepy 
spectators  sat  up  nervously. 

Ten  minutes  passed.  Then  the  sheriff,  his  face  now 
stolid  and  important,  bustled  in  and  across  to  the  jury- 
room,  opened  the  door  and  summoned  the  occupants. 
In  every  stage  of  dishabille  they  filed  sullenly  in;  the 
sheriff  went  through  the  tunnel  for  Mrs.  Bal  fame. 

The  Judge,  without  his  gown  and  his  hair  ruffled,  was 
in  his  seat  when  the  prisoner  entered.  She  came  hur 
riedly,  her  great  repose  broken,  her  face  grey.  Rush, 
who  had  entered  behind  the  Judge,  met  her  and  whis 
pered  : 

"  You  are  free.  But  you  will  need  all  your  self- 
control.  Don't  let  them  have  a  story  in  the  morning 
papers  of  a  breakdown  at  the  last  moment." 

Mrs.  Battle,  Mrs.  Gifning  and  Mrs.  Cummack,  who 
were  far  more  excited  than  she,  took  heart  at  his  words, 
patted  their  dishevelled  hair  and  motioned  to  their  hus 
bands,  summoned  from  the  Dobton  Inn,  to  draw  closer. 
Whatever  the  issue,  they  felt  the  need  of  masculine  sup 
port,  albeit  they  scowled  at  the  obvious  form  that  mas 
culine  needs  had  taken. 

Mrs.  Bal  fame  had  looked  dully  at  Rush  as  he  spoke. 


324  MRS.     BALFAME 

Between  fatigue  and  the  nervous  strain  of  maintaining 
the  superwoman  pitch  for  the  benefit  of  her  friends,  her 
mind  was  confused.  She  could  only  mutter,  "  I'll  try. 
Is  —  is  —  it  really  —  all  right  ?  " 

"  You'll  be  free  and  for  ever  exonerated  in  half  an 
hour." 

Mrs.  Balfame  sank  back  in  her  chair,  thinking  that 
half  an  hour  was  a  long  time,  a  terribly  long  time. 
How  long  did  it  usually  take  a  jury  to  pronounce  a 
prisoner  not  guilty  ? 

Sitting  before  the  table  in  front  of  her  were  two  men 
whom  she  vaguely  recognised.  Behind  them  was  the 
man  she  hated  most  now  that  her  husband  was  dead,  the 
reporter  Broderick.  And  beside  him  were  Alys  Crum 
ley  and  Miss  Austin.  What  did  it  all  mean?  She 
drew  a  sigh.  It  didn't  matter  much.  She  was  so  tired, 
so  tired.  When  it  was  over  she  would  sleep  for  a  week 
and  see  no  one  —  not  even  Dwight  Rush. 

The  district  attorney  was  on  his  feet,  his  face  as 
black  as  if  in  the  first  stages  of  a  poisonous  fever. 
Neither  he  nor  any  one  in  the  court-room  threw  Mrs. 
Balfame  a  glance.  All  eyes  were  on  the  Judge,  who 
rose  and  made  a  short  address  to  the  jury. 

"  New  evidence  has  just  been  brought  to  the  notice 
of  the  court,"  he  said.  "  It  is  of  sufficient  importance 
to  warrant  its  immediate  consideration,  and  the  case  is 
therefore  reopened  for  this  purpose.  It  is  for  you, 
however,  to  pass  upon  its  worth.  Mr.  Rush  will  take 
the  stand." 

"May  it  please  your  honour,"  shrieked  Mr.  Gore, 
"  I  protest  that  this  case  has  already  been  submitted  to 
the  jury,  and  that  it  is  altogether  out  of  order  to  reopen 
it." 


MRS.     BALFAME  325 

"  That  is  a  matter  within  the  discretion  of  the 
court,"  replied  the  Judge  sharply;  he  had  slept  but  fit 
fully  and  was  not  in  his  accustomed  mood  of  remote 
judicial  calm.  "  Mr.  Rush  will  take  the  stand  and  pro 
ceed  without  interruption." 

Rush  ascended  to  the  witness-box  and  was  sworn. 
Mrs.  Balfame  half  rose,  dropped  back  into  her  chair 
with  another  sigh.  There  could  be  but  one  explanation 
of  this  strange  procedure.  Rush  had  discovered  that 
the  jury  was  hostile  and  was  about  to  incriminate  him 
self.  She  could  do  nothing.  She  had  brought  up  the 
subject  only  yesterday,  and  he  had  replied  curtly  that 
he  had  taken  the  pistol  from  his  safe  and  hidden  it  else 
where.  And  she  was  too  tired  to  feel  that  anything 
mattered  much  but  the  prospect  of  a  week's  rest.  Later 
she  could  exonerate  him  in  one  way  or  another. 

The  newspaper  men  were  as  sober  and  alert  as  if  the 
hour  were  ten  in  the  morning.  With  their  abnormal 
news-sense  they  anticipated  a  complete  surprise.  To 
do  them  justice,  they  were  quite  indifferent  to  the  pos 
sibility  of  Mrs.  Balfame's  release.  If  it  were  news, 
Big  News,  that  was  all  that  mattered. 

As  Rush  took  the  witness-chair,  the  lines  in  his  pallid 
face  looked  as  if  cut  to  the  bone,  but  he  addressed  the 
jury  in  strong  clear  tones.  He  told  them  that  two  days 
since  he  had  been  informed  by  Miss  Alys  Crumley  that 
Dr.  Anna  Steuer  had  positive  knowledge  bearing  upon 
the  crime  for  which  Mrs.  Balfame  had  been  unjustly 
arrested  and  thrust  into  jail,  but  that  they  were  afraid 
to  tell  her  of  her  friend's  tragic  situation  lest  it  shatter 
her  slender  hold  on  life.  She  was  very  ill  again  after 
a  relapse,  although  quite  conscious,  and  their  only  hope 
was  in  perfect  peace  of  mind. 


326  MRS.     B  A  L  F  A  M  E 

If  she  recovered,  Mrs.  Dissosway,  in  whom  alone  she 
had  confided,  had  felt  sure  she  would  give  the  testimony 
which  must  set  Mrs.  Balfame  at  liberty  if  the  jury  con 
victed  her.  On  the  other  hand,  Mrs.  Dissosway  had 
promised  her  niece  that  if  the  doctors  agreed  that  Dr. 
Steuer's  death  was  but  a  matter  of  hours  and  there  was 
a  real  danger  of  Mrs.  Bal fame's  conviction,  she  would 
tell  the  dying  woman  the  truth  and  take  the  conse 
quences. 

Shortly  after  the  case  had  gone  to  the  jury,  Miss 
Crumley  and  Miss  Sarah  Austin  had  gone  out  to  the 
hospital,  satisfied  that  Dr.  Anna  had  but  a  few  hours  to 
live.  But  it  was  not  until  Miss  Crumley  had  persuaded 
her  relative  that  the  delayed  verdict  of  the  jury  meant 
conviction  for  Mrs.  Balfame  that  the  superintendent, 
who  was  a  lifelong  friend  of  Dr.  Anna  Steuer,  had 
given  Miss  Crumley  permission  to  send  for  a  stenog 
rapher  and  the  witnesses  she  desired.  Miss  Crumley 
had  therefore  telephoned  at  once  to  Mr.  Broderick,  as 
she  knew  he  would  be  sure  to  be  in  or  near  the  court 
room,  and  asked  him  to  bring  the  witness  and  a  stenog 
rapher. 

They  had  reached  the  hospital  in  fifteen  minutes. 
Dr.  MacDougal  had  met  them  at  the  door  of  Dr. 
Steuer's  room  and  informed  them  that  the  news  of  her 
friend's  predicament  had  been  broken  to  the  patient, 
after  administering  stimulants,  and  that  she  had  con 
sented  immediately  to  make  a  statement. 

"  It  took  her  some  time  to  make  this  statement," 
continued  Mr.  Rush.  "  She  was  very  weak,  and 
stimulants  had  to  be  given  repeatedly.  But  in 
due  course  it  was  completed,  signed,  and  witnessed 
by  Mr.  Broderick  and  the  two  physicians  present. 


MRS.    BALFAME  327 

I  shall  read  it  to  you  with  the  permission  of  the  court." 

He  then  read  them  the  ante-mortem  statement  of  Dr. 
Anna  Steuer : 

"  I  shot  David  Balfame. 

"  I  make  this  statement  at  once  lest  I  prove  to  be  un 
able  to  add  the  explanation  of  my  motives,  and  I  here 
with  sign  it." 

Signed  and  witnessed. 

The  statement  continued : 

"  I  had  known  for  a  long  time  that  my  beloved 
friend's  life  with  this  wretch  was  insupportable,  but  al 
though  I  urged  her  repeatedly  to  divorce  him  and  she 
refused,  it  never  entered  my  head  to  kill  him  nor  any 
one  else.  I  had  spent  my  life  trying  to  heal,  and  to 
give  comfort  where  my  patient's  sufferings  were  of  the 
mind  as  well  as  of  the  body.  I  had  carried  Balfame 
through  several  gastric  attacks,  caused  by  his  disrepu 
table  life,  with  as  much  professional  enthusiasm  as  if 
he  had  been  the  best  of  husbands.  To  have  removed 
him  during  one  of  these  would  have  been  a  simple  mat 
ter. 

"  But  that  day  out  at  the  Country  Club  when  he  in 
sulted  the  loveliest  and  most  nearly  perfect  being  on  this 
earth,  with  the  deliberate  intent  to  ruin  her  position  — 
the  little  all  she  had  in  the  world  that  mattered  — 
something  snapped  in  my  head.  I  almost  struck  him 
then  and  there.  And  when,  during  the  ride  home, 
Enid  for  the  first  time  told  me  the  hideous  details  of 
her  life  with  that  man  all  the  blood  in  my  body  seemed 
to  surge  up  and  through  my  brain.  He  deserved  death, 
and  only  death  could  free  her.  But  how  could  this  be 
accomplished?  Too  proud  and  too  obdurate  in  her 
principles  for  the  divorce-court,  she  was  also  too  gentle 


328  MRS.     BALFAME 

and  good  and  fastidious,  in  spite  of  her  remarkable 
will,  to  strike  him  down  herself. 

"  While  waiting  for  a  summons  to  the  Houston  farm, 
I  paid  several  calls,,  and  the  last  was  at  the  Cummacks', 
one  of  the  children  being  ill.  As  I  came  downstairs 
from  the  nursery  I  heard  the  conversation  at  the  tele 
phone —  Balfame's  drunken  compliment  to  his  wife. 
He  said  he  would  walk  home.  It  was  then  that  the 
definite  impulse  came  to  me,  and  I  acted  without  an  in 
stant's  hesitation.  I  always  carried  a  revolver,  for  I 
was  forced  to  take  many  long  and  lonely  rides  in  my 
country  practice.  I  drove  straight  to  the  lane  behind 
the  Balfame  place,  left  the  car,  put  out  the  lights,  and 
climbed  the  back  fence.  It  was  very  dark,  but  I  had 
been  familiar  with  the  grounds  all  my  life  and  I  had 
no  difficulty  in  finding  the  grove.  I  waited,  moving 
about  restlessly,  for  I  wanted  to  have  it  over  and  go  out 
to  the  Houston  farm. 

"  He  came  after  what  had  seemed  to  be  hours  of 
waiting,  singing  at  the  top  of  his  voice.  Mr.  Rush  tells 
me  there  is  talk  of  two  pistols  having  been  fired  that 
night,  and  that  a  bullet  from  a  thirty-eight-calibre  pistol 
entered  a  tree  just  to  the  left  of  the  gate.  I  heard  no 
one  else  in  the  grove.  My  revolver  was  a  forty-one  and 
can  be  found  in  the  drawer  of  my  desk  at  home.  I  fired 
at  Balfame  the  moment  he  reached  the  gate.  I  vaguely 
remember  seeing  another  figure  almost  beside  him,  but 
as  Balfame  fell  I  ran  for  the  lane  and  my  car.  I  had 
no  intention  of  giving  myself  up.  I  knew  that  the 
crime  would  be  laid  to  political  enemies,  who,  no  doubt, 
could  produce  alibis.  This  proved  to  be  the  case,  and 
when  I  broke  down  and  was  carried  to  the  hospital  it 
was  with  the  assurance  of  public  belief  in  gun-men  as 


MRS.     BALFAME  329 

the  perpetrators  of  the  crime.  That  Enid  Balfame, 
that  serene  and  splendid  woman,  whose  life  has  been  a 
miracle  of  good  taste  and  high  sense  of  duty,  would  be 
accused  never  crossed  my  mind. 

"  No,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  say  with  truth  that 
I  repent.  I  might  have,  once.  But  these  last  six 
months !  Millions  of  men  in  the  greatest  civilisations 
of  earth  are  killing  one  another  daily  for  no  reason 
whatever  save  that  man,  who  seeks  to  direct  the  des 
tinies  of  the  world,  is  a  complete  and  pitiful  failure. 
Why,  pray,  should  a  woman  repent  having  broken  one 
of  his  laws  and  removed  one  of  the  most  worthless  and 
abominable  of  his  sex,  who  had  made  the  life  of  a  be 
loved  friend  past  enduring?  Moreover,  I  have  saved 
hundreds  of  lives  at  the  risk  of  my  own.  I  die  in  peace. 

"  This  statement  is  made  with  full  knowledge  of  im 
pending  death  and  without  hope  of  recovery." 

"  This  ante-mortem  statement,"  concluded  Mr.  Rush, 
"  was  taken  down  in  longhand  by  the  stenographer  who 
sits  below,  and  signed  by  Anna  Steuer,  M.D.,  of  El- 
sinore,  Brabant  County,  State  of  New  York.  It  was 
witnessed  by  Drs.  MacDougal  and  Meyers,  who  accom 
panied  me  from  the  hospital  to  the  Court-house.  Mr. 
Broderick  of  the  New  York  News,  as  I  mentioned  be 
fore,  also  heard  the  confession  and  affixed  his  signa 
ture." 

He  handed  the  sheets  to  the  jury  and  stepped  down. 
For  a  moment  there  was  no  sound  but  the  scratching  of 
pencils  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  room  and  the  faint 
rustle  of  paper  in  the  jury-box.  Mrs.  Balfame  had 
drawn  her  veil  across  her  face  and  sat  huddled  in  her 
chair. 

The  two  doctors  and  Broderick  took  the  stand  briefly, 


330  MRS.    BALFAME 

the  former  testifying  that  Dr.  Steuer  had  been  of  clear 
and  sound  mind  when  she  made  and  signed  her  state 
ment.  Then  the  district  attorney  stood  up,  and  in  life 
less  tones  —  Dr.  Anna  had  been  his  family's  most  cher 
ished  friend  —  asked  if  there  was  any  prospect  of  the 
self-confessed  criminal  being  examined  further.  Rush 
went  over  to  Mrs.  Balfame  and  pressed  his  hand  hard 
upon  her  shoulder. 

"  May  it  please  your  honour,"  he  said,  "  Dr.  Anna 
Steuer  expired  before  we  left  the  hospital." 

Again  there  was  a  furious  scratching  of  pens.  Not 
a  reporter  glanced  at  Mrs.  Balfame.  They  had  for 
gotten  her  existence.  The  Judge  asked  the  jury  if  they 
wished  to  retire  once  more  for  deliberation.  The  fore 
man  faced  about.  The  other  eleven  shook  their  heads 
with  decision. 

The  Judge  dismissed  them  and  congratulated  the  de 
fendant,  who  had  risen  and  stood  clutching  the  back  of 
her  chair.  The  reporters  raced  one  another  down  the 
stairs  to  the  telegraph-offices  and  telephone-booths. 

It  was  physically  impossible  for  Mrs.  Balfame  to 
faint,  or  to  lose  self-control  for  more  than  a  moment 
at  a  time.  She  drew  away  from  the  friends  that 
crowded  about  her,  one  or  two  of  the  women  hysterical. 

"  I  shall  ask  Mr.  Rush  to  take  me  over  to  the  jail  for 
a  few  moments,"  she  said  in  her  clear  cold  voice.  "  I 
must  put  a  few  things  together,  and  I  wish  to  have  a 
few  words  alone  with  Mr.  Rush.  She  turned  to  the 
dazed  Mr.  Cummack.  "  Take  Polly  home,"  she  said 
peremptorily.  "  Mr.  Rush  will  drive  me  over  later." 

"  All  right,  Enid."  He  tucked  Mrs.  Cummack  un 
der  his  arm.  "  Your  room's  been  ready  for  a  week." 

As  Rush  was  about  to  follow  his  client  he  turned 


MRS.     BALFAME  331 

abruptly  and  exchanged  a  long  look  with  Alys  Crum 
ley.  Both  faces  were  pallid  and  drawn  with  fatigue 
but  their  eyes  for  that  swift  moment  blazed  with  re 
sentment  and  despair. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

WHEN  Rush  and  Mrs.  Balfame  reached  the  jail 
sitting-room  she  mechanically  removed  her 
heavy  hat  and  veil  and  sank  into  a  chair. 

"  Is  it  true  that  Anna  is  dead  ?  " 

Her  voice  was  as  toneless  as  the  district  attorney's 
had  been. 

:(  Yes  —  and  we  can  only  be  grateful." 

"And  she  did  that  for  me  —  for  me.  How 
strange !  How  very,  very  strange !  " 

"  It  has  been  done  before  in  the  history  of  the 
world."  Rush  too  was  very  tired. 

"  But  a  woman  — " 

"  I  fancy  you  were  the  romance  of  poor  Anna's  life. 
She  indulged  in  no  dreams  of  the  usual  sort,  with  her 
plain  face  and  squat  figure.  No  doubt  she  had  cen 
tred  all  her  romantic  yearnings  and  all  her  maternal 
cravings  on  you.  She  thought  you  perfect  —  un 
equalled  — " 

"I!    I!" 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  and  thrust  her  head  forward, 
her  eyes  coming  to  life  with  resentment  and  wonder. 

"  What  —  what  am  I  that  two  people  —  two  people 
like  you  and  Anna  Steuer  —  should  be  ready  to  die  for 
me  ?  Why,  I  have  never  thought  of  a  mortal  being  but 
myself!  Anna  must  have  been  born  with  dotage  in 
her  brain.  She  knew  me  all  my  life.  She  saw  me  or 
ganise  charities,  give  to  the  poor  what  I  could  afford, 

332 


MRS.     BALFAME  333 

find  work  for  the  deserving  now  and  again,  and  she 
heard  me  read  absurd  compositions  before  the  Friday 
Club  upon  the  duty  of  Women  to  Society;  but  she  must 
have  known  that  all  were  mere  details  in  my  scheme  of 
life  and  that  I  was  the  most  selfish  creature  that  ever 
breathed." 

Rush  shrugged  his  shoulders,  although  he  was 
watching  her  with  a  quickened  interest.  "  Why  try  to 
analyse?  The  gift  to  inspire  devotion  —  fascination 
—  is  as  determinate  as  the  gift  to  write  a  poem  or  com 
pose  a  symphony.  It  has  existed  in  some  of  the  worst 
men  and  women  that  have  ever  lived.  You  are  not 
that  —  not  by  a  long  sight  — " 

"  Oh,  no !  I  am  not  one  of  the  worst  women  that 
have  ever  lived.  Do  you  know  what  I  am,  how  I  see 
myself  to-night?  I  am  merely  a  commonplace  woman 
everlastingly  anxious  to  do  the  '  right  thing.'  That  is 
the  beginning  and  the  end  of  me,  with  the  exception  of 
a  brief  aberration  —  a  release  under  stress  of  those 
anti-social  instincts  that  are  deep  in  every  mortal  and 
exhibited  by  every  child  that  ever  lived.  Oh,  I  am  one 
of  civilisation's  proudest  products,  for  I  never  had  the 
slightest  difficulty  with  those  inherited  impulses  before. 
Nor  will  they  ever  rise  again.  I've  even  '  improved  ' 
during  my  long  hours  of  solitude  in  this  room,  but  it's 
all  of  a  piece.  I've  not  changed.  We  none  of  us  do 
that.  I  shall  live  and  die  a  commonplace  woman  trying 
to  do  the  '  right  thing.'  " 

"  Oh  —  let  us  go  now.  You  must  rest.  You  are 
very  tired." 

"  I  was.  But  it  has  passed.  The  shock  of  Anna's 
statement  and  death  brought  me  up  standing.  I  shall 
sail  for  Europe  to-morrow,  if  there  is  a  boat.  It  was 


334  MRS.    BALFAME 

Anna's  constant  regret  that  she  could  not  go  to  the  bat 
tlefields  and  nurse,  but  she  would  not  leave  those  that 
depended  upon  her  here.  In  some  small  measure  I  can 
take  her  place.  They  give  a  first  course  in  London  I 
am  told.  And  I  am  strong,  very  strong." 

She  paused  abruptly  and  moved  forward  and  took 
his  hand. 

"  Good  night  and  good-bye,"  she  said.  "  I  shall 
sleep  here  to-night.  And  please  understand  that  you 
are  free." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  Rush's  face  set  like  a 
mask,  but  the  colour  mounted.  The  grip  of  his  han<J 
was  merely  nervous,  and  when  she  withdrew  hers  his 
unconsciously  went  to  his  hip  and  steadied  itself. 

"  I  mean  that  so  far  as  lies  in  my  power  I  shall  harm 
no  one  again  as  long  as  I  live.  Moreover,  I  have  seen 
how  it  was  with  you  for  some  time,  although  I  would 
not  admit  it,  for  I  intended  to  marry  you.  Perhaps 
I  should  have  done  so  if  it  had  not  been  for  Anna.  It 
took  that  to  lift  me  quite  out  of  myself  and  enable  me 
to  see  myself  and  all  things  relating  to  me  in  their  true 
proportions  —  for  once.  It  is  my  moment  —  If  I  am 
ever  to  have  one.  You  no  longer  love  me,  and  if  you 
did  I  should  not  marry  you.  I  say  nothing  of  the  in 
justice  to  yourself — I  could  not  take  the  risk  of 
disillusioning  you."  She  laughed  a  little  nervously.  "I 
fancy  I  have  done  that  already.  But  it  does  not  mat 
ter.  Go  and  marry  some  girl  near  your  own  age  who 
will  be  a  companion,  not  an  ideal  with  heart  and  brain 
as  well  as  feet  of  clay." 

"You  are  excited,"  said  Rush  brusquely,  although 
his  heart  was  hammering,  and  singing  youth  poured 
through  his  veins.  "  I  shall  leave  you  now  — " 


MRS.     BALFAME  335 

"  You  will  say  good-bye  to  me  now,  and  that  is  the 
last  word.  I'll  telephone  my  plans  to  Cummack  in  the 
morning.  There  is  no  reason  for  us  to  meet  again. 
To  me  you  will  always  be  a  very  wonderful  and  beauti 
ful  memory,  for  it  is  something  —  be  sure  I  appreciate 
just  what  it  does  mean  —  to  have  embodied  a  romantic 
illusion  if  only  for  an  hour.  Now  good-bye  once 
more;  and  find  your  real  happiness  as  quickly  as  you 
can." 

She  had  opened  the  door.  She  pushed  him  gently 
out  into  the  corridor,  closed  the  door  and  locked  it. 
Mrs.  Balfame  was  alone  with  the  crushing  burden  of 
her  soul. 


THE  END* 


RETURN 


CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 

202  Main  Library 


LOAN  PERIOD  1 
HOME  USE 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

1 -month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling  642-3405 

6-month  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing  books  to  Circulation  Desk 

Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4  days  prior  to  due  date 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


FFB  28  197 

8 

iECL  filB         MAR  ' 

^^^^»  ""^          •  inl*  ' 

3?e 

^  %/  %/  !••     ^    ^^ 
mrM  nirn      ADn  ^ 

.- 

• 

/cC  u  ClfC.  APR  g  4  jgg^ 

FORM  NO  DD  6    40m  10  '  77 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERKELEY 
BERKELEY,  CA  94720 


U.  C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


CDSSDbbEDS 


345104 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


